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AUTHOR: 


GUIZOT,  FRANCOIS 
PIERRE  GUILLAUME 


TITLE: 


ON  THE  CAUSES  OF  THE 

SUCCESS  OF  THE... 

PLACE: 

LONDON 

DA  TE : 

1850 


Restrictions  on  Use: 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 
PRESERVATION  DEPARTMENT 

BIBLIOGRAPHIC  MICROFORM  TARHFT 


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CAUSES  OF  THE  SUCCESS 


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ENGLISH    REYOLUTION 


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ON  THE 


CAUSES  OF  THE  SUCCESS 


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ENGLISH   REVOLUTION 


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OF  1040-1G88. 


A  DISCOURSE. 

DESFONEK  AS  AN  LN'TIIODUCTION  TO  THE  HISTOIIY  OF  THE  REIGN 

OF  CHARLES  THE  FIRST. 


BY    M.    GUIZOT. 


/ 


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I.  O  N  ]:>  O  N  : 
JOHN    MURRAY,    ALBEMARLE    STREET. 

1850. 


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PRINTED    BV    W.    CLOWES    AND   SONS,    STAMFORD   STREET. 

Library  of  David  Kin^;. 
Loavitt  &  Co.  May  21 


ENGLISH    EEVOLUTIOK 


The  success  by  which  the  English  Revolution  was 
crowned  has   not   only  been   permanent,   but  has 
borne  a  double  fruit :   its  authors  founded  Consti- 
tutional Monarchy  in  England ;    and  in  America, 
their  descendants  founded    the  Republic    of    the 
United  States.     These  great  events  are  now  com- 
pletely known   and  understood;   time,  which  has 
given  them  its  sanction,  has  also  shed  over  them  its 
light.     Sixty  years  ago  France  entered  on  the  path 
opened  by  England,  and  Europe  lately  rushed  head- 
long in  the  same  direction.     It  is  my  purpose  to 
show  what  are  the  causes  which  have  crowned  con- 
stitutional monarchy  in  England,  and  republican 
government  in  the  United  States,  with  that  solid  and 
lasting  success  which  France  and  the  rest  of  Europe 
are  still  vainly  pursuing,  through  those  mysterious 
trials  and  revolutionary  struggles,  which,  according 
as  they  are  well  or  ill  passed  through,  elevate  or 
pervert  a  nation  for  a2:es. 


2  DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 

It  was  in  the  name  of  religion  and  liberty  of  con- 
science that  the  conflict  which  began  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  and,  though  occasionally  suspended,  has 
been  constantly  renewed,  was  undertaken.  The 
tempest  which  still  agitates  the  world,  or  hurries  it 
along  in  an  impetuous  torrent,  gathered  in  the 
inmost  recesses  of  men's  minds,  and  burst  over  the 
Church  before  it  reached  the  State. 

It  has  been  said  that  Protestantism  was  a  poli- 
tical rather  than  a  religious  revolution ;  an  insur- 
rection of  worldly  interests  against  the  established 
order  of  the  Church,  rather  than  the  outbreak 
of  an  ardent  conviction  concerning  the  eternal 
interests  of  man.  This  judgment  has  been  super- 
ficially formed  and  lightly  pronounced  ;  and  the  error 
on  which  it  rests  has  led  the  powers,  whether  spiri- 
tual or  temporal,  who  have  adopted  it.  into  a  line 
of  conduct  fatal  to  their  own  security.  Intent  on 
repressing  the  revolutionary  element  of  Protestant- 
ism, they  have  overlooked  or  misunderstood  its 
religious  element.  The  spirit  of  revolt  is  doubtless 
very  powerful,  but  not  powerful  enough  to  accom- 
plish, alone  and  unaided,  things  of  such  magnitude. 
It  was  not  merely  to  shake  off  a  yoke,  it  was  also 
to  secure  the  free  profession  and  practice  of  a  faith, 
that  the  Reformers  of  the  sixteenth  century  rose  up 
against  authority,  and  persevered  in  the  conflict. 
This  is  demonstrated  by  a  decisive  and  incontestable 
fact.    The  two  most  protestant  countries  of  Europe, 


i 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION.  3 

% 

England  and  Holland,  are  still  the  countries  in 
which  the  Christian  faith  has  the  greatest  vital  energy 
and  power.  It  betrays  a  strange  ignorance  of  human 
nature  to  believe  that  religious  zeal  would  have 
remained  at  such  a  pitch  of  elevation,  after  the  suc- 
cessful termination  of  the  revolt,  if  religion  had  not 
been  the  mainspring  of  the  whole  movement. 

The  revolution  which  took  place  in  Germany,  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  was  religious  and  not  political ; 
that  in  France,  in  the  eighteenth,  was  political  and 
not  religious.  [It  was  the  peculiar  felicity  of  Eng- 
land in  the  seventeenth  century,  that  the  spirit  of 
religious  faith  and  the  spirit  of  political  liberty 
reigned  together,  and  that  she  entered  upon  the 
two  revolutions  at  the  same  timer]  All  the  great 
passions  of  the  human  soul  were  thus  excited  and 
brought  into  action,  while  some  of  the  most  power- 
ful restraints  by  which  they  are  controlled  remained 
unbroken ;  and  the  hopes  and  aspirations  of  eternity 
remained  to  console  and  tranquillize  those  whose 
earthly  hopes  and  ambitions  had  suffered  shipwreck. 

The  English  Reformers,  especially  those  who 
aimed  only  at  political  reform,  did  not  think  a  revo- 
lution necessary.  The  whole  past  history  of  their 
country,  its  laws,  traditions,  and  precedents,  were 
dear  and  sacred  in  their  eyes ;  they  found  in  them 
the  justification  of  their  claims,  as  well  as  the  sanction 
of  their  principles.  It  was  in  the  name  of  the  Great 
Charter,  and  of  all  those  statutes  by  which,  through 

b2 


V 


I 


w 


4  DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 

the  course  of  four  centuries,  it  had  been  confirmed, 
that  they  demanded  their  liberties.  For  four  cen- 
turies not  a  generation  of  men  liad  dwelt  upon  the 
soil  of  England,  without  uttering  the  name  and 
beholding  the  presence  of  Parliament.  The  great 
barons  and  the  people,  the  country  gentlemen  and 
the  burgesses,  met  together  in  1640,  not  to  dispute 
with  each  other  claims  to  new  acquisitions,  but  to 
regain,  in  concert,  their  common  inheritance ;  they 
met  to  recover  their  ancient  and  positive'  rights, 
not  to  pursue  the  boundless  combinations  and  hopes 
suggested  by  the  imagination  of  man. 

The  claims  and  projects  of  the  religious  reformers 
who  sat  in  the  Long  Parliament  were  not,  however, 
equally  legal.  The  Episcopal  Church  of  England, 
such  as  it  had  been  constituted,  first  by  the  cruel 
and  capricious  despotism  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  after- 
w^ards  by  the  able  and  persevering  despotism  of 
Elizabeth,  did  not  satisfy  them  ;  it  was  in  their 
eyes  the  offspring  of  an  incomplete  and  incon- 
sistent reformation,  still  so  nearly  approaching  Ca- 
tholicism as  to  be  incessantly  exposed  to  the  dan- 
ger of  a  relapse.  They  meditated  a  complete  remo- 
delling and  a  new  constitution  of  the  national  church. 
In  this  party  the  revolutionary  spirit  was  more 
ardent  and  open  than  in  the  party  mainly  occupied 
with  political  reforms.  Nevertheless  the  religious 
innovators  were  not  utterly  absorbed  by  the  fanta- 
sies of  their  own  minds.     There  was  an  anchor  to 


[y 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION.  5 

which  they  all  held  fast ;  a  compass  by  which  thev 
ail  were  guided.  The  Gospel  was  their  great 
charter;  subject,  it  is  true,  to  their  interpretations 
and  commentaries,  but  anterior  and  superior  to  their 
Will.  They  held  it  in  sincere  veneration,  and,  spite 
of!  their  pride,  humbled  themselves  before  the  law 
which  they  had  not  made. 

Such  were  the  guarantees  forlnoderation  in  the  two 
impending  revolutions,  afforded  by  the  dispositions  of 
their  several  partisans.  Providence  also  granted  them 
an  especial  favour ;  they  were  not  doomed,  at  the 
outset,  to  commit  the  dangerous  wrong  of  attacking 
spontaneously,  and  without  a  clear  and  urgent  ne- 
cessity, a  mild  and  inoffensive  ruler.     In  England 
•  the  royal  power  was  the  aggressor.    Charles  I.,  full 
of  haughty  pretensions,  though  devoid  of  elevated 
ambition,  and  moved  rather  by  the  desire  of  not 
derogating,  in  the  eyes  of  the  kings,  his  peers,  than 
by  that  of  ruling  with  a  strong  hand  over  his  people, 
twice  attempted  to  introduce  into  the  country  the 
maxims  and  the   practice  of  absolute   monarchy: 
the  first  time,  in   presence  of  Parliament,  at  the 
instigation  'of  a  vain  and  frivolous  favourite,  whose 
presumptuous  incapacity  shocked  the  good   sense 
and  wounded  the  self-respect  of  the  humblest  citi- 
zen :  the  second  time,  by  dispensing  with  Parlia- 
ment altogether,  and  ruling  alone  by  the  hand  of  a 
minister,  able  and  energetic,  ambitious  and  impe- 
rious, though  not  without  greatness  of  mind,  de^ 


\ 


-JL 


; 


6 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


voted  to  his  master,  by  whom  he  was  imperfectly 
understood  and  ill  supported,  and  aware  too  late 
that  kings  are  not  to  be  saved  solely  by  incurring 
ruin,  however  nobly,  in  tlieir  service. 

To  check  this  aggressive  despotism,  more  enter- 
prising than  energetic,  and  assailing  equally,  in 
Church  and  State,  the  ancient  rights  and  recent 
franchises  to  which  the  country  laid  claim,  the  mind 
of  the  people  of  England  did  not  go  beyond  legal  re- 
sistance, and  this  they  entrusted  to  the  hands  of  their 
representatives  in  Parliament.  The  resistance  was 
as  unanimous  as  it  was  legitimate.  Men  the  most 
unlike  in  origin  and  character,  the  great  nobles, 
gentlemen  and  citizens,  those  attached  to  the  court 
and  those  the  most  remote  from  its  influence,  the 
friends  and  the  enemies  of  the  established  church, 
all  rose  with  common  accord  against  this  accumu- 
lated mass  of  grievances  and  abuses ;  and  the  abuses 
were  overthrown,  and  the  grievances  vanished,  as 
the  old  walls  of  a  deserted  citadel  crumble  at  the 
first  stroke  of  its  assailants. 

In  this  burst  of  the  indignation  and  the  hopes 
of  the  country,  some  minds  of  greater  foresight, 
some  more  scrupulous  consciences,  already  began  to 
feel  anxiety.  Vengeance  not  only  disfigures,  but 
perverts  justice;  and  passion,  exulting  in  its  rights, 
oversteps  not  only  those  rights,  but  its  own  inten- 
tions. Strafford  was  justly  accused,  and  unjustly 
condemned.     The  political  party,  which   did    not 


^\ 


/ 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION.  7 

desire  the  ruin  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  suffered 
the  Bishops  to  be  insulted  and   humiliated,  as  if 
they  were  utterly  and  hopelessly  overthrown.     The 
^  blows  which  struck  down  the  usurpations  and  the 
unlawful  pretensions  of  the  Crown  were  so  ill  aimed 
that    they  wounded    it   in   its    just    prerogatives. 
•  The  birth  of  revolutions   is  always  preceded    by 
vague   but   intelligible  warnings,    and   gleams   of 
light    thrown    on  the   future   by   passing   events; 
and   the   revolutionary   spirit,  lurking   under   the 
demand  for  reforms,  was  now  betrayed  by  alarm- 
ing incidents  and  denounced  by  courageous  voices. 
But  the  importance  and  the  splendour  of  victory 
blinded  people  to  the  perception  of  faults,  and  stifled 
the  presentiment  of  their  attendant  dangers. 

When  the  work  of  reform  was  accomplished; 
when  the  grievances  which  had  excited  the  unani- 
mous reprobation  of  the  country  were  redressed  ; 
when  the  powers  in  which  these  grievances  had  ori- 
ginated, and  the  men  who  were  the  instruments  of 
those  powers,  were  overthrown,  the  scene  changed. 
People  began  to  ask  themselves,  How  were  these  con- 
quests to  be  maintained  ?  What  security  was  there 
that  England  would  henceforward  be  governed  ac- 
cording to  the  principles  and  the  laws  which  she  had 
restored  ? 

.  The  political  reformers  began  to  be  perplexed. 
Above  them  was  the  King,  who  conspired  against 
them    while   he   was  making   concessions :    if  he 


h 


( 


8 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


) 


recovered  the  power  in  the  government,  still  com- 
patible with  the  reforms  that  had  been  effected, 
he  would  turn  it  against  reform  and  the  reformers. 
Around  them  were  their  allies,  their  army,  and 
the  religious  innovators  (Presbyterians  or  other 
sectaries),  who  would  not  rest  satisfied  with  political 
reforms,  but,  in  their  hatred  to  the  Church,  would 
strive  not  only  to  throw  off  her  yoke,  but  to  trample 
her  under  foot  and  impose  their  own  upon  her. 
For  the  safety  of  their  work  and  of  their  persons, 
the  leaders  thought  fit  to  remain  under  arms ;  and 
even  if  they  had  not  wished  it,  their  soldiers  would 
have  compelled  them  to  do  so. 

There  was  in  their  eyes  only  one  possible  gua- 
rantee for  safety;  namely,  that  Parliament  should 
retain  the  sovereign  power  of  which  it  had  just  taken 
possession  ;  that  it  should  be  rendered  permanently 
impossible  for  the  King  to  govern  contrary  to  the 
will  of  Parliament  generally,  and  of  the  Commons' 
House  in  particular. 

This  is  the  result  at  which  Constitutional  Mo- 
narchy has  arrived  in  England.  This  is  the  end 
pursued  by  its  partisans  two  centuries  ago.  But 
in  the  seventeenth  century  they  possessed  neither 
the  political  lights  nor  the  political  virtues  which 
that  system  of  government  requires. 

The  heart  of  man  is  at  once  so  arrogant  and  so 
weak  that  he  would  fain  combine  the  splendour  of 
triumph  with  the  repose  of  an  inviolable  peace.    To 


\ 


surmount  obstacles  is  not  enough  ;  he  wants  to  an- 
nihilate  them  for  ever,  that  he  may  dismiss  them 
entirely  from  his  mind  ;   victory  itself  does  not  sa- 
tisfy  him,  unless  he  enjoy  it  in  all  the  insolence  of 
complete  security.     Constitutional  monarchy;  how- 
ever, is  not  formed  to  gratify  these  inconsistent  desires 
and  bad  tendencies  of  the  human  heart.     To  none 
of  the  powers  which  it  invests  with  a  joint  action, 
can  it  grant  the  pleasure  of  undivided  and  secure 
domination.     On  all,  even  on  that  which  has  the 
ascendancy,  it  imposes  the  unremitting  labour  of 
forced  alliances,  mutual  concessions,  frequent  com- 
promises, indirect  influences,  and  a  struggle  inces- 
santly renewed,  with  incessantly  recurring  chances 
of  success  or  defeat.     It  is  on  these  conditions  that 
constitutional  monarchy  gives  predominance  to  the 
interests  and  feelings  of  the  country ;  which,  in  its 
turn,  is  bound   by  its  choice  of  such   a  govern- 
ment, to  moderation  in  its  desires,  to  vigilance  and 
patience  in  its  efforts. 

In  the  seventeenth  century  neither  the  King  nor 
the  Parliament  of  England  understood  these  con- 
ditions of  their  common  government.  The  King 
was  obstinately  bent  on  remaining,  the  House  of 
Commons  on  becoming,  the  immediate  and  infal- 
lible sovereign  of  the  country.  Nothing  short  of 
this  could  satisfy  the  pride  or  allay  the  fears  of 
either  party. 

When   things  had  reached   this  point,  a   great 


|t 


t 


1 


10 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


division  took  place  among  the  reformers.  Some, 
more  far-sighted  or  more  timid,  undertook  the 
defence  of  legal  order  and  of  the  threatened  mo- 
narchy; others,  more  daring  or  less  scrupulous, 
embarked  on  the  current  of  revolution. 

At  this  moment  arose  the  two  great  parties, 
which,  successively  assuming  different  names  and 
aspects,  have  for  two  centuries  presided  over  the 
destinies  of  England; — the  party  devoted  to  the 
maintenance  of  the  established  order  of  things,  and 
the  party  favourable  to  the  growth  of  popular 
influences  ;  the  Whigs  and  the  Tories ;  the  Con- 
servators and  the  Innovators. 

To  attain  its  end, — the  maintenance  and  exercise 
of  the  supreme  power  which  it  had  seized, — the 
Parliament  could  no  longer  rest  satisfied  with  the 
reform  of  abuses  and  the  restoration  of  legal  rights. 
The  ancient  laws  must  be  altered,  and  all  powers 
concentrated  in  its  own  hands. 

Within  the  Parliament,  the  conflict  was  severe, 
but  short.  The  monarchical  party  tried  to  array 
itself  around  the  King,  and  to  govern  in  his  name. 
These  first  essays  at  constitutional  government 
failed  ere  they  had  well  begun ;  they  failed  through 
the  faults  of  the  King,  who  was  inconsistent,  frivo- 
lously obstinate,  and  as  insincere  with  his  counsel- 
lors as  with  his  enemies;  through  the  inexperience 
of  those  counsellors,  alternately  too  exclusive  and 
too  yielding,  and  constantly  thwarted  or  betrayed  in 


i\ 


f\  ' 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


11 


the  Palace,  as  well  as  in  the  Parliament ;  and  finally, 
through  the  distrust  and  the  pretensions  of  the 
revolutionary  party,  determined  not  to  yield  or  rest 
till  the  absolute  power,  which  they  sought  to  over- 
throw, should  have  passed  into  their  own  hands. 

On  the  occasion  of  a  new  remonstrance,  which  it 
was  proposed  to  present  to  the  King  against  the  old 
grievances   (as  if  they  had  not  already  been   re- 
dressed), the  strength  of  the  two  parties  was  dis- 
tinctly put  to   the  trial.     The  debate   became  so 
yiolent  that,  in  the  House  of  Commons  itself;  the 
members  were  on  the  point  of  coming  to  blows. 
Victory  was  determined  in  favour  of  the  revolution- 
ary party  by  eleven  votes.     Fifty  days  after  this 
vote,  the  fugitive  King  quitted  his  palace  of  White- 
hall, which  he  re-entered  only  on  his  way  to  the 
scaflfold.       The  House    of  Commons   immediately 
ordered  that  the  country  should,  with  all  diligence, 
be  put  in  a  state  of  defence.     The  Parliamentary 
struggle  was  at  an  end  :  Civil  War  had  begun. 


At  this  solemn  moment,  patriotic  regrets  and 
gloomy  forebodings  were  heard  in  both  parties  ;  and 
especially  in  tliat  of  the  King,  which  was  less  con- 
fident in  its  strength,  and  perhaps  also  in  its  cause. 
But  these  sentiments  were  not  general.  In  most 
minds  the  ardent  desire  and   hope  of  victory  were 


12 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


I 


predominant.     The  spirit  of  resistance  to  illegality 
and  oppression   Jias  been^one  of  tlie  most  noble 
and    salutary    dispositions'^  of  the    English   people 
throughout  the  whole  course  of  their  history.    Docile 
and  even  favourable  to  authority,  when  it  acts  in 
virtue  of  the  laws,  they  are  intrepid  in  resisting  any 
violation   of  what  they  regard  as  the   law  of  the 
land  and  their  own  right.     Both  parties,  even  in 
the  midst  of  their  dissensions,  were  animated  by  this 
sentiment.       The    revolutionary    party    struggled 
against  the  encroachments  and  oppressions  which 
England  had  endured  from  the  King,  and  which 
she  had  still  to  apprehend   from  him.      The  mo- 
narchical party  resisted  the  illegal  and  oppressive 
acts  which  Parliament  was  actually  inflicting  on  the 
country.     The  respect  for  right  and  law,°though 
continually   disregarded    or   violated,    was   deeply 
rooted  in  all  minds,  and  threw  a  veil  over  the  inju- 
ries and  the  evils  which  civil  war  was  preparing  for 
the  country. 

In  neither  party  were  the  habits  and  manners 
very  repugnant  to  civil  war.  The  Cavaliers  were 
impetuous  and  violent,  and  still  given  to  that  habit 
of  combat,  that  taste  for  an  appeal  to  force,  which 
characterized  the  feudal  times.  The  Puritans  were 
rigid,  harsh,  and  pertinacious :  they  had  imbibed 
the  passions,  together  with  the  traditions,  of  the  He- 
brew people,  who  defended  and  avenged  their  God 
by  destroying  his  enemies.     To  both,  the  sacrifice  of 


i7< 


fs 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION.  13 

life  was  familiar;    in  neither,  did  bloodshed-excite 
any  horror. 

Another  less  obvious  cause  hastened  and  aggra- 
vated the  explosion.     The  contest  was  not  merely 
between  the  political  and  religious  parties;  beneath 
,  that,  lay  a  social  question— the  struggle  between  the 
various  classes  of  society  for  influence  and  power. 
Not  that  the  separation  between  these  classes  was  as 
profound  and  as  hostile  in  England  as  it  has  been  in 
other  countries.     The  great  barons  had  maintained 
the  liberties  of  the  people  together  with  their  own, 
and  the  people  did  -not  forget  the  debt  they  owed 
them.     The  country  gentlemen  and  the  burgesses 
had  sat  together  in  Parliament,  in  the  name  of  the 
Commons  of  England,    for   three  centuries.     But 
during  the  preceding  century  a  great  change  had 
taken  place  in  the  relative  strength  of  the  several 
classes  of  society,  without  any  analogous  change  in 
the  government.    Commercial  activity  and  religious 
zeal  had  given  a  prodigious  impulse  to  wealth  and 
thought  among   the  middle   classes.     It   was   ob- 
served with  suiprise  in  one  of  the  first  parliaments 
in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.  that  the  House  of  Com- 
mons was  three  times  as  rich  as  the  House  of  Lords. 
The   higher   aristocracy   no   longer    possessed  the 
same  preponderance   in   the  nation  as   heretofore, 
and,  though  they  still  rallied  round  the  King,  could 
no  longer  affbrd  him  the  same  support.     On  the 
other   hand,  the   citizens,  the   country  gentlemen 


Kl 


V 


i^ 


14 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


15 


and  the  yeomen  (then  a  very  numerous  class),  did 
not  exercise  an  influence  over  public  affairs  pro- 
portionate to  their  weight  in  the  country.     Their 
growth  in  wealth    and   importance    had   not  been 
accompanied   by  a  corresponding   increase  of  po- 
litical power.     Hence,  among  them  and  the  classes 
immediately  below  them,  there  existed  a  fierce  and 
vehement  spirit  of  ambition,  ready  to  burst  forth  on 
the  first  occasion  or  pretext.     Civil  war  offered  a 
vast   field  to   their  energy   and   their   hopes.     At 
its  outbreak,  it  did  not  wear  the  aspect  of  an  ex- 
clusive and  jealous  social  classification  ;  for  many 
country  gentlemen,  and   many  even  of  the  most 
considerable  of  the  great  nobles,  marched  at  the 
head  of  the  popular  party.     Nevertheless,  the  mass 
of  the  nobility  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  the  citizens 
and  the  people  on  the  other,  ranged  themselves,  the 
former  on  the  side  of  the  Crown,  the  latter  on  that 
of  the  Parliament.     Unerring   symptoms   already 
showed  that  a  great  social  movement  was  going  on 
in  the  midst  of  a  great  political  struggle ;  and  that 
the  effervescence  of  an    ascendant  democracy  was 
forcing  its  way  through  the  ranks  of  an  enfeebled 
and  divided  aristocracy. 

Each  party  found  in  the  state  of  society — it 
would  hardly  be  too  much  to  say,  in  the  laws  of 
the  country — natural  and  almost  regular  means  of 
maintaining  their  rights  and  enforcing  their  claims 
by  arms.     Ever  since  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  the 


/ 


) 


\ 


House  of  Commons  had  laboured  with  ardour  to 
destroy  the  last  tottering  institutions  of  feudalism. 
But  profound  traces  of  it  still  remained;  and 
the  habits,  sentiments,  and  even  occasionallv  the 
rules,  to  which  it  had  given  birth,  still  determined 
the  relations  of  the  possessors  of  fiefs,  both  to  the 
King  their  suzerain,  and  to  the  part  of  the  popula- 
tion grouped  around  their  castles  or  settled  on  their 
lands.  These  people  rose  at  their  bidding,  and 
attended  them  to  festivities  or  to  battle,  as  they 
themselves  answered  the  call  of  the  King  when  he 
claimed  their  services.  It  was  one  of  those  epochs 
of  transition  in  which  ancient  laws,  honoured 
though  antiquated,  still  determine  the  actions  of 
men  on  whom  they  are  no  longer  binding.  Attach- 
ment had  taken  the  place  of  servitude ;  the  fidelity 
of  the  vassal  had  become  the  loyalty  of  the  subject ; 
and  the  Cavaliers,  whether  rich  or  poor,  thronged 
around  the  King,  ready  to  fight  and  to  die  for  him, 
and  followed  by  a  troop  or  a  handful  of  servants, 
equally  ready  to  fight  and  to  die  for  them. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  middle  classes,  consisting 
{jenerally  of  artisans  and  townspeople,  had,  under 
other  forms,  their  means  of  independent  action,  and 
even  of  waging  war.  Organized  in  municipal  or 
trading  corporations,  they  met  freely  to  discuss  and 
settle  their  affairs ;  they  levied  taxes,  called  out  mi- 
litia or  trained  bands,  and,  in  short,  deliberated  and 
acted  within  the  circuit  of  their  walls,  or  the  often 


16 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


obscure  limits  of  their  charters,  almost  with  the 
independence  of  petty  sovereigns.  And  the  ex- 
tension of  commerce  and  manufactures,  the  wealth, 
connexions  and  credit  of  these  corporations,  in- 
vested them  with  a  power  which  they  used  in  the 
service  of  their  cause  with  the  audacity  of  new-born 
and  inexperienced  pride. 

Neither  in  the  country  nor  in  the  towns  did  the 
King  possess  the  authority  of  a  central  and  exjclu- 
sive  administration.  The  business  of  the  nation, 
financial,  military,  and  even  judicial,  was  almost 
entirely  in  the  hands  of  local  and  nearly  inde- 
pendent authorities.  In  the  country,  it  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  landholders ;  in  the  towns,  in  those  of 
municipal  or  other  corporate  bodies;  and  these 
respectively  appropriated  to  themselves  as  much  as 
possible  of  the  administrative  functions,  for  the 
purpose  of  serving  the  cause  in  which  they  had 
engaged. 

And  where  these  established  means  were  insuffi- 
cient, where  the  action  extended  beyond  the  sphere 
of  the  ancient  and  recognised  local  powers,  the 
ancient  spirit  and  usage  of  association  (which  was 
still  in  full  force  in  the  country)  promptly  esta- 
blished practical  and  efficient  concert  between  the 
counties  and  cities ;  between  the  different  parts  of 
the  country,  or  the  different  classes  of  society.  By 
means  of  this  concert,  free  and  extemporaneous, 
associations  levied  taxes  and  troops,  formed  com- 


/ 


■    I 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


17 


mittees,  and  elected  leaders  charged  with  the 
conduct  of  the  part  they  were  to  take  in  the  general 
defence  of  the  cause  they  had  embraced. 

It  was  in  an  association  of  this  kind — that  of  the 
Eastern  Counties — formed  to  support  the  Parlia- 
ment, that  Cromwell  gave  tlie  first  proofs  of  his 
capacity,  and  laid  the  fJrst  foundations  of  hi&  power. 

In  a  community  thus  organized  and  thus  dis- 
posed, civil  war  was  neither  impossible  nor  revolt- 
ing. It  soon  overspread  the  wliole  country;  in 
some  places  under  the  command  of  the  agents 
of  the  King  or  the  Parliament,  in  others  spon- 
taneously levied  by  the  inhabitants;  and  main- 
tained on  both  sides  with  an  energy  sometimes 
sad,  but  always  unhesitating,  as  the  exercise  of  a 
right  and  the  fulfilment  of  a  duty.  Each  party 
felt  profoundly  the  justice  and  tlie  greatness  of 
its  cause ;  each  party  made  those  efforts  and 
sacrifices  in  its  behalf  which  elevate  the  mind, 
even  when  confused  and  misled,  and  give  to  pas- 
sion the  appearance,  and  sometimes  the  merit  of 
virtue.  Nor  was  virtue  itself  wanting  to  either 
party.  The  Cavaliers,  though  generally  violent 
and  licentious,  had  in  their  ranks  the  noblest  models 
of  the  high-bred  and  generous  manners  of  men  of 
ancient  family,  full  of  unexacting  devotedness  and 
dignified  submission.  The  Puritans,  arrogant  and 
hard,  rendered  an  inappreciable  service  to  their 
country;  they  founded  the  austerity  of  private  life 

c 


18 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


19 


and  the  sanctity  of  domestic  manners.  The  two 
parties  fought  with  the  most  determined  acrimony ; 
but,  in  the  midst  of  the  mortal  struggle,  they  did 
not  renounce  all  sentiments  of  order  and  peace. 
There  were  no  sanguinary  riots,  no  judicial  mas- 
sacres. There  was  civil  war,  fierce,  obstinate,  full 
of  violence  and  of  evil,  but  without  cynical  or  atro- 
cious excesses,  and  restrained,  by  the  general  man- 
ners of  the  people,  within  certain  bounds  of  justice 
and  humanitv. 

I  hasten  to  render  this  justice  to  the  conflicting 
parties;  for  the  virtues  of  parties  are  frail  and 
transient  when  breathed  upon  by  the  hot  breath, 
and  shaken  by  the  storms,  of  revolutions.  In  pro- 
portion as  civil  war  w^as  prolonged,  respect  for 
rights  and  sentiments  of  justice  and  generosity 
grew  more  and  more  feeble.  The  natural  conse- 
quences of  a  state  of  revolution  manifested  them- 
selves ;  gradually  perverting,  in  both  parties,  the 
ideas  and  habits  of  law  and  morals.  The  King  was 
in  want  of  money;  the  Cavaliers  used  this  as  a 
reason  or  a  pretext  for  unlicensed  pillage.  The 
taxes  levied  by  the  Parliament  did  not  suflBce  for  the 
expenses  of  the  war;  the  Parliament  established  a 
system  of  confiscation  more  or  less  disguised',  which, 
by  branding  its  enemies  with  the  name  of  Malig- 
nants,  rendered  it  master  of  their  revenues,  often 
even  of  their  lands,  and  thus  became  a  daily  source 
of  wealth  to  its  partisans.      In  this  general  and  • 


protracted  disorder,  amidst  the  abuses  of  power 
and  the  extremities  of  distress, *bad  passions  were 
incessantly  excited,  and  lawless  desires  exposed 
to  the  temptation  of  chance  and  opportunity ;  hate 
and  revenge  took  possession  of  the  more  energetic 
minds;  fear  and  baseness,  of  the  feebler.  The 
Parliament,  which  pretended  to  act  in  the  name  of 
the  laws,  and  to  serve  the  King,  even  while  resist- 
ing him,  was  compelled  to  clothe  its  most  violent 
deeds  in  false  and  hypocritical  language.  Among 
the  Royalists,  many,  mistrusting  the  King's  dupli- 
city, called  upon  to  make  sacrifices  beyond  their 
means,  and  daily  more  doubtful  of  the  success  of 
tneir  cause,  felt  the  warmth  of  their  devotion 
decline,  and  either  submitted  in  despair,  or  sought 
compensation  in  licence.  Falsehood,  violence,  rapa- 
city, pusillanimity  and  selfishness  under  every 
variety  of  form,  rapidly  increased  among  the  men 
engaged  in  the  conflict ;  while  the  people,  who  took 
only  a  remote  or  indirect  part  in  it,  and  were 
subjected  to  the  detestable  influence  of  the  spectacle 
of  a  revolution,  gradually  lost  their  notions  of 
right,  duty,  justice  and  virtue,  or  preserved  only 
dim  and  wavering  traces  of  them. 

At  the  same  time  they  suflTered  severely  in  their 
pecuniary  interests.  War,  unrestrained  by  dis- 
cipline and  spread  over  the  whole  face  of  the  land, 
ravaged  town  and  country,  destroying  the  subsist- 
ence, or  defeating  the  hopes  and  the  labours  of  the 

c2 


h 


20 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


21 


people.  The  financial  measures  of  Parliament, 
made  subservient  to  local  hostilities  and  intrigues, 
threw  landed  property  into  confusion  and  depre- 
ciated its  value.  All  security  for  the  business  of 
the  present  or  the  labours  of  the  future  was  at  an 
end.  Even  domestic  life  was  affected  by  the  gene- 
ral disorder,  and  families  the  furthest  removed  from 
political  strife  were  sharers  in  the  general  calamity. 
And  as  alarm  always  travels  further  and  swifter 
than  suffering,  the  country,  fallen  into  a  state  of 
fearful  distress,  was  a  prey  to  an  anxiety  more 
general  and  more  fearful  than  the  distress  itself. 

Its  complaints  and  wishes  were  not  long  in 
bursting  forth.  War  was  still  raging  in  all  its 
fierceness,  when  already  the  cry  of  "  Peace," 
"  Peace,"  resounded  at  the  doors  of  the  Parliament. 
Frequent  petitions  demanding  it  were  brought  up 
by  assemblages  of  men  so  numerous  and  so  excited 
that  it  was  necessary  to  disperse  them  by  force. 
In  the  House  of  Commons,  notwithstanding  the  ' 
general  secession  of  the  original  Royalist  party, 
a  second  was  formed  in  the  name  of  peace,  whose 
main  object  was  to  seize  every  occasion  of  pro- 
claiming its  necessity,  and  of  opening  negotiations 
with  the  King.  These  were  attempted  several  times, 
but  failed,  through  the  intrigues  of  those,  in  both 
parties,  who  were  averse  to  the  mutual  concessions 
which  peace  would  have  required ;  and  through  the 
incapacity  or  the  weakness  of  those  who,  while  they 


K 


• 


would  willingly  have  consented  to  the  inevitable 
conditions  of  a  peace,  dared  not  openly  accede  to 
them.  Civil  war  continued  to  rage ;  but  the 
party  which  had  begun  it  was  divided,  and  the 
struggle  for  and  against  revolution  was  renewed  in 
the  Parliament. 

Out  of  doors,  especially  in  the  country,  the 
people  did  not  rest  satisfied  with  demanding  peace 
at  the  hands  of  the  Parliament ;  they  tried  to  en- 
force it  themselves,  locally  at  least,  on  both  the  con- 
tbnding  parties.  Associations  were  formed  and  took 
arms,  declaring  that  they  would  no  longer  suffer 
their  fields  to  be  ravaged  either  by  Parliamentarians 
or  Royalists,  and  giving  battle  to  whichever 
party  fell  in  their  way  ; — a  sort  of  armed  neutrality 
in  the  midst  of  civil  war.  The  attempt,  however 
vain,  suflSced  to  prove  how  profoundly  the  furious 
and  obstinate  conflicts  of  the  two  parties  were  at 
variance  with  the  sentiments  and  interests  of  the 
country. 

So  long:  as  the  war  was  hot  and  the  issue  doubtful, 
the  suflferings  and  impressions  of  the  people,  though 
they  produced  a  reaction  in  favour  of  peace,  excited 
in  them  but  a  feeble  and  hesitating  return  of  loyalty 
towards  the  King.  They  accused  him  of  stubborn- 
ness and  falsehood,  and  complained  bitterly  of  his 
secret  plots  with  the  Queen  and  the  Catholics,  who 
were  the  objects  of  vehement  hatred  and  dread. 
They  reproached   him,    at   least  as  much    as   the 


k  t 


22 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


23 


Parliament,  with  the  evils  and  the  prolongation  of 
the  war. 

When  the  war  was  ended,  and  the  King  a  prisoner 
in  the  hands  of  the   Parliament,  the  reaction   in 
,    favour  of  peace  assumed  a  more  general  and  de- 
cided  royalist  character.     The  King  was   utterly 
powerless,  and  hore  his  misfortunes  with  dignity. 
The  Parliament  was  all  powerful,  and  did  not  put 
an  end  to  the  calamities  of  the  country.     On  the 
Parliament  now  rested  the  whole  responsibility; 
on  the  Parliament  were  thrown  all  the  discontents, 
the  disappointed  hopes,  the  suspicions  and  hates, 
the  curses  of  the  present,  the  terrors  of  the  future!  ' 
Urged  by  this  national  sentiment,  and  enlightened 
by  the  imminence  of  the  danger,  the  political  re- 
formers,  (who  had  been  the  first  leaders  of  the  par- 
liamentary resistance,)  and  in  their  train  a  portion 
of  the  religious  innovators  (the  Presbyterians,  who, 
though   enemies  to   the   Episcopal  Church,  were' 
friendly  to  the  monarchy),  made  a  last  effort  to 
bring  about  a  peace  with  the  King  and  to  put  an 
end  at  once  to  war  and  revolution. 

They  were  sincere,  and  even  ardent,  in  their  de- 
sire, but  they  Avere  still  full  of  the  revolutionary 
prejudices  and  pretensions  which  had  repeatedly 
rendered  f.eace  impossible.  By  the  conditions  they 
sought  to  impose  upon  the  King,  they  required  him 
Uo  sanction  the  ruin  they  had  brought  on  the 
Monarchy  and  the  Church ;  they  required  him  to 


H 


1/ 


I 


J 


complete  with  his  own  hands  the  demolition  of  the 
edifice  in  which  alone  he  could  hope  for  safety,  and 
of  that  on  which  his  faith  was  fixed. 

They  had  proclaimed  as  a  principle,  and  reduced 
to  practice,  the  substantial  sovereignty  of  the  House 
of  Commons ;  and  now,  constrained  in  their  turn 
to  resist  the  popular  torrent,  they  were  astonished 
at  finding  distrust  and  hostility,  instead  of  support 
and  strength,  from  the  high  aristocracy  and  the 
church  which  they  had  decried  and  demolished. 

Even  if  they  had  succeeded  in  concluding  a  peace 
with  the  King,  that  peace  would  have  been  vain. 
It  was  too  late  to  stop  the  course  of  the  revolution, 
and  too  soon  to  bring  it  to  its  permanent  and  satis- 
factory conclusion.  God  had  only  begun  to  execute 
his  judgments  and  to  teach  his  lessons.  As  soon  as 
the  first  leaders  of  the  insurrection  tried  to  rebuild 
the  structure  which  they  had  overthrown,  the  real 
revolutionary  party  arose ;  and  treating  their  newly 
acquired  wisdom  with  open  contempt,  drove  them 
from  the  Parliament,  condemned  the  King  to  death, 
and  proclaimed  the  Republic. 


Two  centuries  have  elapsed  since  the  English  Re- 
public put  to  death  King  Charles  I.,  and,  in  a  few 
short  years,  crumbled  to  dust  on  the  soil  still  wet 
with  the  blood  it  had  shed.     The  French  Republic 


I 


> 


24 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTOKY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


25 


has  Since  exhibited  the  same  spectacle.  And  we  still 
hear  it  said  that  these  great  crimes  were  acts  of  a 
great  policy ;  that  they  were  enjoined  by  the 
necessity  of  founding  those  Republics  which  hardly 
survived  them  a  dav  ! 

Thus  do  men  try  to  clothe  their  folly  and  wicked- 
ness in  the  garb  of  greatness;  but  neither  the 
truth  of  history  nor  tlie  interest  of  mankind  can 
tolerate  so  daring  and  mischievous  a  falsehood. 

The  fervour  of  religious  conviction  and  religious 
liberty  had  degenerated  in  some  sects  into  an  arro- 
gant aggressive  fanaticism,   intractable  to  all  au- 
thority, and  delighting  only  in  outbursts  of  intellec- 
tual licentiousness  and  spiritual  pride.     Civil  war 
had  converted  these  sectarians  into  soldiers,  at  once 
disputatious  and   devoted,  enthusiastic    and    disci- 
plined.    Having  risen  in  general  from  the  humbler 
classes  and  professions,  they  greedily  relished  the 
pleasure  of  commanding  and  predominating  over 
others;    they  exulted  in  the  belief  that  they  were 
the    chosen    and    powerful   instruments    of    God's 
will     and  judgments   on   earth.      By    alternately 
appealing  to  religious  and  democratic  enthusiasm, 
and  enforcing   military    discipline,  Cromwell    had 
gained  the  confidence  of  these  men,  and  had  be- 
come  their  leader.     He  had  spent  his  youth  in  the 
excesses  of  an  ungovernable  temperament,  which 
were  succeeded  by  fits  of  ardent  and  restless  piety, 
and  by  active  services  rendered  to  the  people  among 


iii 


11 


I 


whom   he  lived.     As  soon  as  a  political  and  war- 
like career  opened  before  him,  he  rushed  headlong 
into  it,  as  the  only  one  in   which  he  could    find 
room  for  the  employment  of  his  powers  and  the 
satisfaction  of  his  passions.     He  was  the  most  vehe- 
ment of  sectaries,  the  most  active  of  revolutionists, 
the  ablest   of  soldiers;    ready   alike    to  speak,   to 
pray,  to  conspire,  and  to  fight;  atone  time  pour- 
ing out  his  thoughts  with  a  warmth  and  frank- 
ness that  carried  away  his  hearers ;    and,  in  case 
of  need,  playing  the   hypocrite  with  a  cool   and 
inexhaustible  mendacity,  and.  a  fertility  of  invention, 
which  surprised  and  perplexed  even  his  enemies; 
enthusiastic    yet  worldly,  rash   yet   perspicacious, 
mystical    yet  practical,    he   set   no  bounds   to  the 
soarings  of  his  imagination,  and  he  felt  no  scruples 
fin  perpetrating   any   act   which    the   necessity   of 
the  case  enjoined;  determined  on   success   at  all 
costs,  discerning  and  seizing  with- matchless  promp- 
titude the  means  necessary  to'  obtain  it,  and  im- 
pressing on  all,  whether  friends  or  foes,  the  con- 
viction  that   he   was   gifted    above   all  men    with 
the  qualities  necessary  to  the  vigorous  conduct  and 
complete  success  of  an  enterprise. 

To  such  a  party,  led  by  such  a  man,  a  Republic 
was  sure  to  be  welcome.  It  gratified  their  passions, 
opened  a  vista  to  their  most  ambitious  hopes,  and 
gave  security  to  the  interests  which  civil  war  had 
created  in  their  favour.      It  delivered  the  country 


i 


\ 


V 


26 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


into  the  hands  of  the  army  by  the  genius  of 
its  commander,  and  the  sovereign  power  into 
those  of  Cromwell  by  the  disciplined  aid  of  his 
soldiers. 

Respect  for  their  sincerity,  their  genius,  and  tlieir 
misfortunes,  restrains  me  from  fully  expressing  my 
opinion  concerning  some  illustrious  men.  Sidney, 
Vane,  Ludlow,  Harrington,  Hutchinson  and  Mil- 
ton were  Republicans,  but  rather  in  accordance  with 
the  political  systems  and  models  of  antiquity,  than 
from  religious  fanaticism.  They  were  men  of  lofty 
spirits  and  proud  hearts,  full  of  noble  ambition  for 
their  country  and  for  mankind  ;  but  so  injudicious 
and  so  insanely  proud,  that  they  learned  nothing 
either  from  power  or  from  defeat.  Credulous  as 
childhood,  and  obstinate  as  age ;  blinded  by  hope  to 
their  perils  and  their  faults ;  they  were,  while 
preparing  the  way  by  their  own  anarchical  tyranny 
for  a  more  consistent  and  a  more  powerful  tyranny, 
persuaded  that  they  were  founding  the  freest  and 
most  glorious  of  governments. 

Excepting  these  sects  enrolled  into  regiments, 
and  these  coteries  constituting  a  Parliament,  nobody 
in  England  wished  for  a  Republic.  It  offended 
against  the  traditions,  the  manners,  the  laws,  the 
old  attachments,  the  old  reverence,  the  regular 
interests,  the  good  order,  the  good  sense,  and  the 
moral  sentiments  of  the  country. 

Irritated  and  alarmed  by  the  manifest  aversion 


'  /I 


V 


« 

/ 


i. 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


27 


of  the  public  for  their  designs,  Cromwell  and  the 
sectaries  thought  that  a  form  of  government  so 
generally  and  vehemently  rejected  could  only  be 
est"ablished  by  instantly  striking  a  terrible  and  irre« 
vocable  blow,  which  would  prove  its  strength  and 
vindicate  its  right.  They  determined  to  consecrate 
the  Republic  on  the  scafl'old  of  Charles  1. 

But  even  the  ablest  leaders  of  revolutions  are 
not    long-sighted.       Intoxicated    by   the    passion, 
or  hurried  away  by  the  necessity,  of  the  moment, 
they  do  not  see  that  the  very  acts  which  secure 
their  triumph  to-day,  will  bring  about  their  down- 
fall   to-morrow.       The    execution    of  Charles    I., 
which  struck   the  country  with  consternation,  de- 
livered England  into  the  hands  of  Cromwell  and 
the  Kepublicans.     But  the  blow  which  killed  the 
King  rebounded  with  mortal  force  on  the  Republic 
and  the  Protector ;    from  that  moment,  their  rule 
was  nothing  more  than  a  violent  and  ephemeral 
domination,  branded  with  that  mark  of  consummate 
iniquity  which  dooms  the  strongest  and  most  im- 
posing power  to  certain  ruin. 

Charles  the  First's  judges  did  everything  in 
their  power  to  divest  their  act  of  its  fatal  cha- 
racter, and  to  represent  it  as  a  judgment  of  God, 
which  they  were  commissioned  to  execute.  Charles 
had  aimed  at  absolute  power,  and  had  carried  on 
civil  war;  many  rights  had  unquestionably  been 
violated,  and  much  blood  had  been  shed,   by  his 


'/■ 


.h-.' 


<U<^(i^ 


X 


N 


28 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


29 


orders  or  with  his  conseut.  Upon  him,  then,  they 
threw  the  whole  responsibility  of  the  misgovern- 
ment  and  the  war;  they  called  him  to  account 
for  all  the  liberties  that  had  been  trodden  under 
foot,  and  all  the  blood  that  had  been  spilt; — 
nameless  crimes  which  only  death  could  expiate. 
But  the  conscience  of  a  people,  even  when  dis- 
tracted with  trouble  and  terror,  is  not  to  be  so  com- 
pletely misled.  Others,  besides  the  King,  had  been 
guilty  of  oppression  and  bloodshed.  If  the  King 
had  violated  the  rights  of  his  subjects,  the  rights  of 
the  Crown,  which  were  no  less  ancient,  no  less 
established  by  law,  and  no  less  necessary  to  the 
maintenance  of  the  public  liberties,  had  been  equally 
assailed  and  violated.  The  King  had  made  war,  but 
in  his  own  defence.  It  was  notorious  that  at  the  mo- 
ment when  he  resolved  on  war,  they  were  preparing 
to  wage  it  against  him  ;  to  force  him,  after  all  the 
concessions  he  had  made,  to  surrender  the  small 
remains  of  his  rights  and  prerogatives,  and  the  last 
wreck  of  the  legal  government  of  the  country. 
And  now  that  the  King  was  utterly  subdued,  he 
was  tried  and  condemned  without  law  and  contrary 
to  law  for  acts  which  no  law  had  ever  contem- 
plated or  treated  as  crimes ;  which  it  had  never 
occurred  either  to  the  King  or  the  people  to  regard 
as  coming  under  the  jurisdiction  of  men,  or  punish- 
able by  their  hands.  What  universal  indignation 
and  horror  would    have   burst  forth   if  the   most 


/ 


\\ 


obscure  citizen  of  Eng-land  had  been  treated  in  the 
same  manner,  and  put  to  death  for  crimes  created 
ex  post  facto  by  pretended  judges,  who  had  been 
his  enemies,  and  who  were  now  aspiring  to  succeed 
him  in  his  power !  And  what  no  one  would  have 
dared  to  attempt  against  the  meanest  Englishman, 
was  now  actually  done  against  the  King  of  Eng- 
land, the  supreme  head  of  the  Church  as  well  as 
of  the  State,  the  representative  and  the  symbol  of 
authority  and  order,  law  and  justice;  of  every- 
thing in  human  society  that  approaches  the 
boundary  and  suggests  the  idea  of  the  attributes 
of  divinity. 

There  is  no  fanaticism,  however  blind,  which, 
even  in  the  moment  of  its  triumph,  has  not  seen 
some  bright  ray  of  truth  break  upon  it,  — sometimes 
even  from  its  own  centre  ;  there  is  no  policy, 
however  deep  and  crooked,  which  has  not  heard 
some  solemn  and  unexpected  protest  from  the  con- 
science of  mankind.  Vane  and  Sidney,  the  two 
most  illustrious  men  of  the  Republican  party,  and 
one  of  whom  had  been  nominated  among  the  Kings 
judges,  refused,  either  from  conscientious  or  pru- 
dential scruples,  to  take  any  part  in  the  trial,  and 
left  London  to  avoid  being  witnesses  of  it.  And 
when  the  House  of  Commons,  now  absolute  sove- 
reign of  the  country,  nominated  the  republican 
Council  of  State,  twenty-two,  out  of  its  forty-one 
members,  positively  refused  to  take  the  oath  which 


^ 


-  v- 


30 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


31 


contained  an  approval  of  the  King's  sentence.  The 
republican  regicides,  with  Cromwell  at  their  head, 
were  compelled  to  accept  as  colleagues  men  whom 
nothing  could  induce  to  pass  for  tlieir  accomplices. 

The  resistance  which  the  new  form  of  government 
encountered  was  at  first  merely  passive,  but  it  was 
almost  universal. 

Six  out  of  the  twelve  judges  absolutely  refused 
to  continue  the  exercise  of  their  functions,  and  the 
six  others  only  consented  to  sit,  on  condition  that 
they  should  continue  to  administer  justice  according 
to  the  ancient  laws  of  the  countrv.  To  these  terms 
the  Republican  Parliament  acceded. 

Orders  had  been  given  that  the  Republic  should  be 
proclaimed  in  the  City  of  London.  The  Lord  Mayor 
refused  ;  he  was  superseded  and  thrown  into  prison  : 
but  though  a  new  Lord  Mayor  was  chosen,  three 
months  passed  away  before  the  proclamation  was 
attempted,  and  when  at  length  it  was  read,  several 
aldermen  absented  themselves  from  tlie  ceremony, 
which,  in  spite  of  the  presence  of  troops,  was  inter- 
rupted by  popular  insult.  The  Common  Council 
of  the  City  was  re-organized ;  several  of  the  mem- 
bers elected  refused  to  serve,  and  it  was  necessarv 
that  a  smaller  number  than  that  appointed  by  law 
should  be  empowered  to  act.  The  Government  was 
on  the  point  of  being  driven  to  abolish  the  franchises 
of  the  City. 

When  the  Jlint  was  ordered  to  coin  Republican 


0 

( 


{ 


\ 


( 


money,  the  Master  declared  that  he  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  it,  and  threw  up  his  office. 

Civil  functionaries  and  beneficed  clergymen  were 
irequired  to  take  an  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  Republic, 
and  though  it  was  rendered  as  simple  and  inoffen- 
sive as  possible,  thousands  gave  up  their  places  or 
their  livings  rather  than  comply.  More  than  a 
year  after  the  establishment  of  the  Republic,  the 
Assembly  of  the  Presbyterian  Clergy,  held  in 
London,  formally  declared  that  it  was  not  lawful  to 
take  it.  In  the  Universities  of  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge it  was  made  compulsory  ;  upon  which  the 
most  eminent  members  of  those  learned  corpo- 
rations resigned  their  offices. 

The  order  issued  to  efface  and  destroy  the  in- 
signia of  royalty  on  all  public  edifices  throughout 
England,  v/as  scarcely  anywhere  executed.  It  was 
reiterated  several  times  with  no  better  success ;  and 
the  Republic,  which  had  been  established  for  more 
than  two  years,  was  compelled  to  repeat  the  same 
injunction  all  over  the  country,  and  to  render  the 
parishes  responsible  for  its  execution. 

Lastly,  it  was  not  till  nearly  two  years  after  the 
King's  death,  that  the  Republican  Parliament  dared 
to  pass  a  formal  vote,  declaring  that  the  authors, 
judges,  and  executors  of  that  act  had  done  their 
duty,  approving  the  whole  proceeding,  and  order- 
ing it  to  be  entered  on  the  journals  of  Parliament. 

Never  did    a  people,  vanquished   by  a  revolu- 


32 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


1*, 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


33 


tionary  faction,  and  enduring  its  defeat  without 
open  insurrection,  more  distinctly  refuse  to  recog- 
nise the  authority  of  its  conquerors. 

The  passive  resistance  of  the  country  to  the 
Kepublican  Government  was  soon  succeeded  by 
the  attacks  of  declared  enemies. 

The  first  proceeded  from  the  Republicans  them- 
selves. In  the  seventeenth  century,  as  in  the  nine- 
teenth, that  name  covered  ideas,  designs,  and  parties 
profoundly  different  in  character.  Behind  the  reform- 
ers of  political  institutions  came  the  reformers  of  social 
order,  and  behind  them,  again,  the  destroyers  of  all 
order  and  all  society.  The  Republic  of  Sidney  and 
of  Milton  did  not  go  far  enough  to  satisfy  the  pas- 
sions and  pretensions  of  fanatics  or  democrats,  more 
blind  and  more  unbridled  in  proportion  as  their 
social  condition  was  meaner.  Levellers  openly 
arose,  and  Communists  began  to  show  tliemselves. 
The  Republic  had  hardly  existed  six  months  when 
four  insurrections  of  sectarian  soldiers,  excited  and 
kept  alive  by  an  incessant  fire  of  pamphlets,  ser- 
mons, and  popular  processions,  revealed  to  the  world 
the  dissensions  of  its  partisans,  and  endangered  the 
stability  of  its  government. 

The  royalist  party  was  more  tardy  in  its  revolt. 
Its  repeated  defeats,  the  execution  of  the  King,  and 
the  relentless  severity  with  which  it  was  kept  down, 
had  struck  it  with  a  sort  of  stupor.  But  the  dissen- 
sions of  its   conquerors  and    the    evident  aversion 


// 


of  the  people  to  the  new  government,  soon  awakened 
it  to  life  and  hope.  In  two  years,  seven  plots  and 
insurrections,  emanating  from  pure  or  presbyterian 
Royalists,  who  were  equally  ardent  enemies  of  the 
Republic,  proved  to  its  leaders  that  the  blow  which 
had  been  fatal  to  the  Monarch,  had  not  eradicated 
the  attachment  to  the  Monarchy. 

In  a  short  time  a  secret  understanding  arose 
between  the  royalist  and  the  republican  conspira- 
tors, the  Cavaliers  and  the  Levellers.  They  con- 
spired together ;  for  a  common  hatred  obliterates  all 
lesser  hostilities. 

And  while  England  was  torn  by  this  wild 
anarchy,  Scotland  and  Ireland,  both  royalist, 
though  from  very  different  motives  and  with  very 
different  sentiments,  openly  declared  against  the 
Republic,  proclaimed  Charles  Stuart  king,  and  en- 
gaged in  a  war  for  his  restoration ;  the  former  in- 
viting Charles  himself,  and  the  latter  his  represen- 
tatives, to  take  the  lead  in  the  insurrection. 

In  this  dislocation  of  the  three  kingdoms, 
while  plots  laid  by  opposite  parties,  but  tend- 
ing to  the  same  end,  were  no  sooner  defeated 
than  revived,  and  alternately  raised  or  overthrew 
the  ambitions  and  the  schemes  of  all  parties 
throughout  the  country,  the  bonds  of  society  were 
loosened,  and  the  springs  of  authority  rapidly 
,  gave  way.  There  was  no  longer  any  order  or 
security.     In  the   administration   of  counties   and 

D 


/ 


1 


34 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


parishes,  in  the  general  and  local  finances,  in  public 
employments  and  private  fortunes,  all  the  interests 
of  civil  life  were  thrown  into  confusion.  The  high 
roads,  and  even  the  neighbourhood  of  cities,  were 
infested  with  gangs  of  robbers,  whose  political  pas- 
sions served  as  pretexts  for  their  crimes.  They 
asked  those  whom  they  stopped,  whether  they  had 
taken  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  Republic,  and 
maltreated  or  released  them  according  to  the 
tenor  of  their  answer.  It  became  necessary  to 
station  bodies  of  troops  at  various  points,  and  to 
keep  several  regiments  of  cavalry  incessantly  in 
motion;  and  even  these  energetic  measures  of 
repression  had  but  a  very  imperfect  success;  for 
the  disorganization  of  society  produced  more  disor- 
ders than  it  was  in  the  power  of  the  Republican 
Government  to  put  down. 

Though  assailed  by  dangers  so  numerous  and 
pressing,  the  leaders  of  the  Republican  Parliament 
betrayed  no  weakness.  They  possessed  energy  and 
firmness,  the  offspring,  in  some,  of  faith  in  their 
cause,  in  others,  of  imperious  personal  interests. 
Their  noblest  hopes  and  their  most  selfish  fears,  their 
honour  and  their  life,  were  equally  engaged  in  their 
enterprise.  They  devoted  themselves  to  it  cou- 
rageously ;  but  they  made  a  blind  and  prodigal 
use  of  those  vicious  means  which  save  a  cause  for 
a  moment  to  ruin  it  completely  in  the  end. 

From    the    very   outset    they   carried    political 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


35 


\ 


tyranny  almost  to  its  utmost  limits ;  for  they  decreed 
that  any  man  who,  in  the  course  of  the  civil  war, 
had  adhered  to  the  King  or  showed  hostility  to  the 
Parliament,  should  be  incapable  of  being  elected 
Member  of  Parliament,  or  of  holding  any  important 
office  in  the  state.  Shortly  after,  the  same  dis- 
ability was  extended  to  every  municipal  function, 
and  even  to  the  right  of  voting  at  elections ; 
thus,  at  one  stroke,  reducing  all  the  adversaries 
of  the  Republic  to  the  condition  of  Helots,  without 
political  rights  or  political  existence  in  their  own 
countrv. 

The  oath  of  fidelity  had,  at  first,  been  required 
only  from  civil  or  ecclesiastical  functionaries,  and 
their  refusal  was  followed  by  no  other  consequence 
than  the  loss  of  their  places.  But  the  great  number 
of  refusals  irritated  and  alarmed  the  conquerors. 
For  the  gratification  of  their  anger,  and  in  the  vain 
hope  of  freeing  themselves  from  their  uneasiness, 
they  imposed  the  oath  on  every  Englishman  above 
eighteen  years  of  age ;  and,  visiting  political  dissent 
with  civil  incapacity,  they  enacted  that  whoever 
refused  to  take  it,  should  not  be  allowed  to  appear 
in  a  court  of  justice,  even  in  defence  of  his  own 
interests. 

Sequestration  and  confiscation  were  employed 
against  the  vanquished,  with  the  most  intolerable 
and  revolting  injustice;  not  according  to  any  fixed 
rule  or  general  principle,  but  by  particular  and  fluctu- 

D  2 


(/ 


36 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OP 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


37 


ating  decisions.  They  were  aggravated  or  extenuated 
according  to  the  wants  of  the  moment,  the  avidity 
of  a  powerful  enemy,  or  some  unforeseen  accident. 
The  lists  of  names  were  incomplete  and  arbitrary ; 
so  that  those  who  felt  the  danger  impending  over 
them,  could  never  know  with  any  degree  of  cer- 
tainty what  was  their  situation,  or  what  their  pro- 
bable fate. 

Since  the  cessation  of  the  war,  the  only  weapon 
left  in  the  hands  of  the  conquered  Royalists  or 
Levellers  was  the  Press.  They  used  it  boldly,  as  the 
conquering  party  had  done  through  the  whole  of 
their  struggle  with  the  King.  They  might  well 
think  they  had  a  right  to  do  so  ;  since  Mr.  Mabbott, 
the  last  censor  under  the  monarchy,  had  resigned 
his  office  because  he  would  no  longer  serve  as 
an  instrument  of  tyranny;  and  Milton,  the  first 
Secretary  of  the  republican  Council  of  State,  had 
eloquently  vindicated  the  liberty  of  the  press,  as  an 
essential  right  of  a  free  people.  Though  the  repub- 
lican government  did  not  appoint  a  new  censor,  it 
passed  a  law  on  the  press,  rigorous  enough  to  satisfy 
the  most  jealous  despotism.  The  privilege  of  printing 
was  confined  to  four  cities,  London,  York,  Oxford,  and 
Cambridge;  no  journal  or  other  periodical  writing 
could  appear  without  a  licence  from  the  govern- 
ment; printers  were  compelled  to  find  sureties; 
and  not  only  were  those  who  had  in  any  way  contri- 
buted to  a  seditious  publication  declared  guilty  and 


\ 


) 


V 


punished,  but  every  purchaser  of  any  such  publica- 
tion was  subject  to  a  fine,  if  he  did  not  deliver  up 
the  book  to  the  nearest  magistrate  within  four  and 
twenty  hours,  and  give  notice  of  its  dangerous  ten- 
dency. 

There  was  one  liberty,  that  of  conscience,  which, 
it  might  have  been  presumed,  w^ould  have  been 
more  respected  by  the  Republic.  It  had  always 
been  put  forward  by  the  republican  sectaries  as 
one  of  the  main  objects  of  the  war.  They  not 
only  stood  in  need  of  it  for  themselves,  but  their 
principles  imperatively  enjoined  it,  for  they  re- 
jected all  general  and  obligatory  church  govern- 
ment, and  held  the  right  of  each  separate  con- 
gregation to  govern  itself.  But  from  one  of  the 
most  deplorable  perversities  of  our  nature,  it  hap- 
pens that  men's  inconsistency  nowhere  displays  itself 
in  so  full  and  glaring  a  manner  as  on  the  very 
point  where  it  is  the  most  iniquitous  and  revolting. 
The  very  men  who  had,  in  practice,  devoted 
themselves  with  admirable  constancy  to  the  cause 
of  religious  liberty  for  the  last  half  century, 
and,  in  theory,  had  made  that  liberty  the  basis 
of  all  Christian  society,  no  sooner  attained  to 
sovereign  power,  than  they  absolutely  denied  all 
liberty  to  three  large  classes  of  persons.  Catholics, 
Episcopalians  and  Freethinkers.  Against  the 
Catholics  persecution  knew  no  bounds  ;  their  faith 
and  worship  were  absolutely  proscribed ;  the  laity 


38 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


were  subjected  to  disabilities  and  privileged  confis- 
cations, and  the  priests  to  imprisonment,    banish- 
ment and  even  death.     The  Protestant  Episcopalian 
Church,  overthrown  and  dispersed  by  the  presby- 
terian  parliament,  had  to  undergo  yet  harder  trials 
under  the  republican  ;   for  the  sectarians  wanted  to 
wreak  their  vengeance   for  the  past,   and  to   free 
themselves  from  fears  for  the  future.     They  went 
so  far  as  to  forbid  the  presence  of  her  ministers, 
and    the   use   of    her   liturgy   and    prayers,    even 
in   the    bosom    of    private    families.      As   to   the 
Freethinkers,  less  rare  at   that  time  than  is  usu- 
ally supposed,  if  one  were  found  who,  from  im- 
prudence   or  from    hatred    of    hypocrisy,    openly 
declared  his  opinions,  he  was  arrested,  imprisoned, 
excluded  from  parliament,  and  deprived  of  every 
public  employment,  however  humble.     The  Presby- 
terians, as  enemies  of  the  Episcopalians,  enjoyed 
a  certain  degree  of  toleration  ;  but  it  was  limited, 
precarious,  and  often  troubled  by  the  suspicion  or 
the  violence  of  the  sectaries,  to  whom  their  church 
o-overnment  and  their  monarchical  sentiments  were 
equally  offensive.     Vainly  did  a  few  more  generous 
spirits  in  the  Republican  Parliament  make  some 
attempts   to   soften  these  rigours;  they  soon  felt, 
and  resigned  themselves  to  their  own  impotence. 
Religious   liberty   existed  only  for   the   victorious 
republican  sects,  who  forgot  or  tolerated  their  own 
relio-ious  differences  in  favour  of  a  common  poli- 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


39 


tical  cause,  which  they  knew  was  exposed  to  con- 
tinual peril. 

To  maintain  a  political  tyranny  so  vast  and 
inexorable,  judicial  tyranny  was  indispensable;  and 
(  the  Republican  Parliament  exercised  it  without 
scruple.  The  King's  trial,  that  monstrous  viola- 
tion of  all  the  principles  and  forms  of  justice, 
became  the  model  of  state  trials  generally.  To 
curb  the  seditious  spirit  of  the  Levellers,  martial 
law  was  sufficient ;  but  when  a  royalist  insurrection 
broke  out,  or  a  royalist  plot  was  discovered,  a  high 
court  of  justice,  appointed  by  the  Parliament  itself, 
was  immediately  constituted,  and  was  in  fact  a 
special  commission,  exempted  from  the  rules,  and 
affording  none  of  the  guarantees  of  law.  If  the 
Parliament  feared  that  the  proceedings  would  ex- 
cite the  indignation  or  the  pity  of  the  country, 
the  publication  of  them  was  absolutely  prohibited. 
These  extraordinary  tribunals  were  employed  not 
only  against  men  of  weight,  but  also  to  terrify  ob- 
scure masses,  innocent  of  any  crimes  cognizable  by 
the  ordinary  courts.  Before  the  Republic  was  pro- 
claimed, some  Thames  boatmen  had  petitioned  for 
peace  with  the  King.  The  Parliament  sent  their 
petition,  signed  with  their  names,  to  the  new  high 
court  which  it  had  instituted  for  the  trial  of  five  of 
the  principal  royalist  leaders;  thus  using  the  instru- 
ment framed  for  the  destruction  of  the  great,  to  strike 
terror  into  the  humble.     In  cases  in  which  a  resort 


\ 


40 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF  ; 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION; 


41 


to  these  high  courts  would  have  caused  too  much 
popular  agitation  or  too  much  preparation  and  delay, 
the  Republican  Parliament  administered  justice  it- 
self: by  a  mere  vote  of  its  own,  and  in  order  to  crush 
a  stubborn  foe,  or  to  subserve  the  passions  or  cover 
the  faults  of  a  leader,  it  imposed  enormous  fines,  and 
sentenced  to  the  pillory  or  banishment.  Some  of 
the  political  reformers,  for  example,  whose  spirit  the 
republican  party  had  not  broken,  although  it  had 
driven  them  from  parliament,  were  arbitrarily  de- 
tained in  remote  prisons.  Cavaliers,  catholics,  sol- 
diers of  fortune  who  had  served  in  the  royal  army, 
all,  in  short,  who  were  liable  to  any  suspicion,  were 
banished  from  London  in  a  mass.  And  if  any  roy- 
alist writer,  instead  of  conspiring  in  secret,  openly 
denounced  the  real  or  supposed  crimes  of  the  re- 
publican chiefs,  he  was  arrested  and  sent  to  the 
Tower,  where  he  often  remained  awaiting  his  trial 
till  released  by  death. 

These  violent  oppressions  in  the  midst  of  anarchy 
seemed  more  odious  and  intolerable  coming  from 
men  who  had  demanded  so  much  of  the  King,  and 
promised  so  largely  for  themselves,  in  the  way  of 
libertv ;  from  men  most  of  whom  were  till  then  ob- 
scure,  and  had  risen  from  ranks  and  conditions  in 
which  the  people  were  not  accustomed  to  look  for 
rulers.  The  authority  which  they  wielded  in  so  arbi- 
trary a  manner  rested  on  their  personal  merit  and 
the  military  force  at  their  command ;  but  the  former. 


i 


1 


linless  it  is  transcendant,  is  always  a  disputable 
fclaim  to  the  exercise  of  sovereign  power ;  whilst  the 
latter  is  a  title  which  alienates  those  who  submit  to 
it,  so  long  as  they  retain  a  particle  of  independence 
or  self-respect. 

Though  dizzied  both  by  their  elevation  and  their 
danger,  several   of  the   republican    leaders  had  a 
sense  of  their  situation,  and  of  the  public  feeling 
with  regard  to  them ;  and,  at  the  summit  of  power, 
they  felt  that  they  were  isolated  and  generally  con- 
temned.    There  is  no  power  that  can  give  its  pos- 
sessor confidence  in  isolation,  or  indifference  to  con- 
tempt.    They  ardently  desired  to  gain  other  titles 
to  dominion  than  those  they  had  acquired  by  civil 
War  and  regicide,  and  to  raise  themselves  by  some 
great  national  act  to  the  height  of  their  fortunes. 
They  meditated  and  prepared  various  reforms  in  the 
laws  and  the  administration  of  justice;  but  the  most 
Important  of  these  (of  very  questionable  merit  in 
themselves)  were  vehemently  opposed  by  the  most 
considerable  men  of  their  own  party,  and,  instead  of 
raising  the  Republic  in  general  estimation,  would 
have   drawn  upon   it  the  unpopularity  which  at- 
tached to  sectarians  and  levellers.     It  was  clear  that 
ijlo  measure  of  internal  government  would  give  the 
republican  leaders    the    consideration    which    thev 
Wanted.  They  turned  their  thoughts  therefore  abroad. 
The  dignity  and  interests  of  the  country  in  its  rela- 
tions with  foreign  powers  might  be  maintained  with 


-v 


/ 


y 


42 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


43 


little  effort  and  no  risk.  The  age  of  religious  wars  was 
drawing  to  a  close,  while  that  of  political  wars  had 
not  yet  begun.  None  of  the  European  governments, 
however  they  might  detest  the  new  Republic,  had 
any  intention  of  attacking  it;  on  the  contrary,  all 
sought  its  friendship,  which  they  hoped  to  use 
against  their  rivals.  Mere  neutrality  secured  to  Eng- 
land peace,  entire  independence  in  her  internal 
affairs,  and  a  great  weight  in  those  of  the  Conti- 
nent. But  the  parliamentary  leaders  wanted 
more  than  this.  Of  the  three  powerful  states 
from  which  the  Republic  had  the  most  to  fear 
or  to  hope,  France  and  Spain  were  monarch- 
ical and  catholic,  and  were  the  natural,  though 
disguised  adversaries  of  the  Republic ;  whilst  Hol- 
land, as  protestant  and  republican,  naturally  sym- 
pathized with  England.  An  idea  arose,  and 
rapidly  produced  a  great  excitement  among  the 
daring  and  restless  spirits  of  the  Parliament. 
Why  should  not  England  and  Holland  unite  to 
form  one  great  republic,  which  would  soon  secure 
throughout  Europe  the  triumph  of  their  common 
policy  and  fiiith?  Here  was  matter  to  inflame 
the  most  pious,  and  to  employ  the  most  ambi- 
tious. What  would  be  the  gratitude  of  England 
towards  the  men  who  should  thus  enhance  her  great- 
ness, while  satisfying  her  conscience  and  her  pride  ! 
If  this  could  be  brought  about,  the  Monarchy  would 
be  forgotten,  and  the  Republic  firmly  established. 


and  the  Republican  Parliament  would  become  a  se- 
nate of  kings. 

The  republican  leaders  engaged  in  the   project 
with  enthusiasm :    some  using  indirect  influences, 
by  industriously  propagating  their  opinions;  others 
Undertaking  solemn  embassies,  and  endeavourins:  to 
lay  the  foundation  of  a  firm  union  between  the  coun- 
tries.   But  revolutionary  dreams  are  yet  vainer  as  to 
the  foreign,  than  as  to  the  internal  affairs  of  a  state. 
The  English  Republicans  were  pleased  to  forget  that, 
as  a  consequence  of  the  fusion  which  they  contem- 
plated,   Holland    would    be    entirely    absorbed    by 
England,    and   that   she   might   not    be    disposed 
to  consent  to  this  arrangement.     And,  in  fact,  she 
refused    to    listen   to  the  bare   insinuation   of  the 
project.    The  Dutch  Republicans,  taught  by  a  cen- 
tury of  laboriously  earned  successes,  w^ere  too  proud 
to  sacrifice  their  country,  and  too  wise  to  bind  its 
destinies,  to  this  Utopian  scheme  of  an  infant  and 
yet  tottering  Republic.      On  the  other  hand,  the 
cause   of  the  English  royalists  Avas  favoured,  not 
only  by  the  House  of  Orange,  but  by  a  large  por- 
tion of  the  Dutch  people,  whose  feeling  of  justice 
was  outraged   by  the  murder  of  Charles  I.,  and 
whose  good  sense  was  shocked  by  the  wild  visions 
of  the  English  sectaries;  the  just  pride  of  Holland 
instantly  dissipated  the  dream  to  which  the  ambi- 
tious pride  of  the  English  Parliament  had  given 
birth.      But  such    attempts,  even   when   abortive, 


44 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


are  not  made  with  impunity.  From  the  distrust 
and  jealousy  sown  between  the  two  countries, 
(already  rivals  in  commercial  and  maritime  great- 
ness,) and  of  wounded  self-love  and  bitter  resent- 
ment between  their  rulers,  a  war  speedily  arose; 
so  that  the  magnificent  diplomatic  visions  of  the 
protestant  and  republican  Parliament  of  England 
ended  in  an  open  rupture  and  a  violent  conflict 
with  the  only  republican  and  protestant  state  on 
the  continent  of  Europe. 

Thus,  abroad  as  well  as  at  home,  the  principles 
of  the  English  Republicans  were  belied,  and  their 
hopes  defeated,  by  their  own  policy.  They  had 
promised  freedom,  and  they  had  exercised  tyranny. 
They  had  promised  the  union  of  protestants  and 
the  triumph  of  protestantism,  and  they  had  raised  a 
war  between  the  countries  which  were  the  main 
bulwarks  of  the  protestant  cause. 

It  was  in  vain  that  the  republican  government 
had  gained  battles  and  suppressed  its  enemies. 
Notwithstanding  its  successes,  and  the  general  sub- 
mission of  the  country,  the  Republic  did  not  take 
root  in  the  soil,  and  its  leaders  daily  lost  ground  in 
the  respect  and  consideration  of  the  people. 

Oliver  Cromwell,  the  man  who  had  been  the 
principal  author  of  the  King's  death  and  the  esta- 
blishment of  the  Republic,  had  a  presentiment  of  this 
result,  and  now  prepared  to  take  advantage  of  it. 
No  sooner  was  this  change  consummated  than  a 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


45 


mighty  but  natural  metamorphosis  took  place  in 
Cromwell.  Till  then,  goaded  by  fanaticism  and 
ambition,  he  had  bent  his  whole  powers  to  the 
destruction  of  the  enemies  of  his  faith  and  the 
obstacles  to  his  fortune.  But  now  that  the  work 
of  revolution  was  accomplished,  he  saw  that  the 
next  necessary  step  was  to  re-construct  the  govern- 
ment. Providence,  which  rarely  endows  one  man 
with  powers  so  different,  had  marked  out  Cromwell 
for  this  double  work.  The  revolutionist  disappeared 
and  gave  place  to  the  dictator. 

While  Cromwell's  great  and  vigorous  mind  per- 
ceived what  the  new  state  of  things  imperiously 
demanded,  he  saw  no  less  clearly  that  the  govern- 
ment which  his  colleagues  were  attempting  to 
establish  would  not  satisfy  the  exigencies  of  the 
times.  Neither  the  institutions  nor  the  men  were 
equal  to  the  occasion.  The  institutions,  from  their 
total  want  of  unity,  stability,  and  of  any  principle 
of  life  and  growth,  tended  to  foster  intestine  war 
and  create  perpetual  uncertainty  at  the  seat  of 
power ;  whilst  the  conduct  of  the  men  was  deter- 
mined by  narrow  or  chimerical  views,  and  by  petty 
and  blind  passions.  It  was  easy  to  perceive  that  such 
institutions  and  such  leaders  would  perpetuate  the 
struggle  between  the  government  and  the  countr3^ 
From  the  time  when  the  Parliament  and  its  chiefs 
were  exalted  into  sovereigns,  Cromwell's  good  sense 
had  weighed  them  and  found  them,  wanting.     He 


46 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


saw  that  no  strong  and  regular  government  could 
spring  from  such  a  source. 

From  that  moment  his  chief  care  was  to  disso- 
ciate himself  from  the  policy  and  the  destiny  of 
these  men  or  these  institutions  ;  to  keep  aloof  from 
tlieir  faults  and  their  reverses,  and,  while  lie  served 
the  Parliament,  to  separate  himself  from  it. 

But  to  separate  himself  was  not  enough ;  it  was 
necessary  that  he  should  grow  in  strength  and  re- 
nown, while  others  were  working  their  own  ruin. 
Cromwell  foresaw  the  downfall  of  the  Parliament 
and  its  leaders,  and  he  determined  not  only  not  to 
share  tlieir  fall,  but  to  rise  upon  their  ruins. 

Men  whose  greatness  lies  in  action  do  not  lay  far- 
reaching  and  elaborate  plans  of  conduct.  They  are 
prompted  by  instinct  and  ambition :  they  look  at 
the  facts  which  every  day  brings  forth,  and  every 
event  modifies,  as  they  really  are;  they  see  the 
course  which  these  facts  point  out,  and  the  chances 
which  it  offers  ;  they  enter  upon  it  with  spirit,  and 
advance  boldly  as  far  as  it  will  lead  them.  Crom- 
well went  onwards  to  the  dictatorship  without  any 
distinct  perception  of  the  end  to  which  he  was 
going,  or  the  perils  and  sacrifices  of  the  way;  but 
he  never  hesitated  or  halted  in  his  course. 

The  Parliament  unconsciously  seconded  his  views ; 
it  offered  him  exactly  the  position,  isolated  and 
distinct  from  the  reigning  power,  of  which  he  was 
in  quest.     Cromwell's  presence  in    London  was  so 


THE  ENGLISH  RRVOLUTION. 


47 


inconvenient  and  disquieting  to  the  leaders,  that 
they  asked  him  to  take  the  command  of  the  army 
equipped  for  the  reduction  of    Ireland,  which  had 
risen  for  Charles  Stuart,  or  rather,  against  the  Par- 
liament.     Cromwell   not  only   waited    to  be   en- 
treated, but  made  large  demands  in  favour  of  his 
numerous  friends,  to  whom  he  was  a  zealous  patron  ; 
and  stipulated,  on  his  own  account,  for  a  well-pro- 
vided army,  high  dignity,  unlimited  powers,   and 
all  the  other  means  of  assured  success.     They  were 
so  eager  to  be  rid  of  him  that  they  gave  him  all  he 
demanded.    His  departure  was  solemn  and  magnifi- 
cent.    Sermons  were  preached,  predicting  or  pray- 
ihg  for  his  success ;  Cromwell    himself  spoke  and 
prayed    in  public,    and  quoted  passages  from   the 
Bible  of  an  encouraging  nature,  which  he  applied 
to  the  war  he  was  about  to  undertake.    He  marched 
out  of  London  surrounded  by  a  numerous  guard 
of  officers  splendidly  equipped.     At  Bristol,  where 
he  took  ship,   the    people  from  the  neighbouring 
country  flocked   in   crowds   to  see   him.      At   the 
moment  of  withdrawing  himself  from  the  eyes  of  the 
English  people,  he   neglected  nothing  that  could 
excite   their  expectations,   which  everything  con- 
spired to  raise. 

It  was  England  that  he  hoped  to  gain  by  the 
conquest  of  Ireland.  There  he  would  have  to  deal 
with  a  hostile  race  and  faith,  the  one  despised,  the 
other  detested,  by  the  English  people.     He  made 


m' 


\ 


v 


48 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


49 


unrelenting  war  upon  them.  He  massacred,  plun- 
dered, and  drove  out  the  Irish ;  shrinking  as 
little  from  cruelty  in  the  field  as  he  had  done 
from  mendacity  in  the  parliament ;  covering  every 
crime  with  the  plea  of  necessity ;  and  prone  to 
believe  in  it  whenever  it  could  shorten  the  road  to 
success. 

His  victories  and  his  renown  soon  began  to 
awaken  the  anxiety  of  Parliament.  Cromwell  was 
the  subject  of  all  conversations ;  the  people  talked 
of  him  with  admiration,  and  men  of  sagacity  endea- 
voured to  divine  his  conduct  and  his  destiny.  At 
the  moment  of  his  setting  out  to  join  the  army  in 
Ireland,  a  rumour  had  got  abroad,  and  had  caused 
a  general  agitation  in  Scotland,  that  his  destination 
was  not  Dublin,  but  Edinburgh.  Others  said  that 
on  his  return  from  Ireland  he  intended  to  cross  to 
France,  but  nobody  could  tell  on  what  pretext,  or 
with  what  design.  Pamphlets  entitled  "  The  Cha- 
racter of  King  Cromweir*  were  seized.  He  had 
reached  that  point  in  the  ascent  to  greatness  at 
which  a  man's  most  insignificant  actions,  or  the 
most  frivolous  circumstances  regarding  him,  excite 
intense  curiosity  in  the  public  and  solicitude  in  his 
rivals.  The  leaders  of  the  Parliament  thought 
they  might  take  advantage  of  his  going  into  winter- 
quarters  at  Dublin  to  recall  him  to  London.  Crom- 
well did  not  obey;  he  did  not  even  reply;  but 
abruptly  renewing  the  campaign,  pursued  his  work 


of  destruction  in  Ireland,  and  did  not  return  to 
England  till  fresh  and  graver  perils  threatened  the 
Republic,  and  opened  new  prospects  of  independence 
and  greatness  to  himself. 

Scotland  having  recalled  Charles  Stuart,  the  Re- 
public and  the  Monarchy  were  about  to  meet  face 
tp  face,  and  the  Republic  stood  in  need  of  a  tried 
champion  to  oppose  to  the  King.  The  Parliament 
wished  to  send  two,  Fairfax  and  Cromwell ;  but  Fair- 
fax having  refused,  it  appointed  Cromwell  to  the 
sole  command;  with  infinite  regret,  but  constrained, 
for  the  safety  of  the  Republic,  to  give  him  another 
kingdom  to  conquer. 

Cromwell's  mode  of  carrying  on  the  war,  and  his 
whole  conduct  in  Scotland,  were  totally  different 
from  those  which  he  had  pursued  in  Ireland.     He 
was  no  less  moderate,  patient,  and  conciliating  to 
the  Scotch  Protestants,  than  he  had  been  violent, 
harsh,   and   pitiless  to   the  Irish  Catholics.      The 
royalist  party  was  surrounded,  and  even  divided, 
by  deep-laid  dissensions  :  there  were  Presbyterians, 
more  fanatical  than  royalist,  who  served  the  King 
with  infinite  distrust  and  reservations  of  all  sorts ; 
sectarians  as  ardent  and  as  democratic  as  those  of 
England,  full  of  sympathy  with  Cromwell  and  his 
soldiers,    and    more    disposed    to    second    than   to 
oppose  them.     Cromwell  humoured  and  took  ad- 
vantage of  all  these  dispositions.     He  was  eager  to 
do  battle  with  the  King's  army,  but  full  of  consi- 


50 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


deration  for  the  country.  He  opened  separate  ne- 
gotiations with  the  leaders  whom  he  knew  to  be 
wavering  or  well  inclined  to  himself,  and  entered 
into  religious  correspondences,  conferences,  and 
discussions  with  the  Scotch  theologians;  showing 
himself  no  less  able  than  anxious  to  please,  and 
even  when  he  failed  to  convince  or  seduce,  leaving 
a  profound  and  favourable  impression  on  his 
hearers.  By  these  means  he  advanced  into  Scot- 
land, daily  gaining  ground  by  his  arms  and  his 
address,  and  detaching  counties,  cities,  and  chief- 
tains from  the  royal  cause.  Charles  found  himself 
pressed  upon,  surrounded,  and  in  a  short  time  in 
personal  danger.  With  the  impetuosity  of  youth, 
he  suddenly  took  a  daring  and  desperate  resolution; 
abandoning  Scotland  to  Cromwell,  he  marched 
rapidly  at  the  head  of  his  army  to  England,  deter- 
mined to  try  the  fortunes  of  Royalty  in  the  heart  of 
the  Republic. 

A  month  had  not  elapsed  from  the  time  when 
Charles  and  his  army  set  foot  on  the  soil  of  England, 
before  Cromwell  had  come  up  with  them,  and  had 
beaten  and  dispersed  them  at  Worcester,  where 
Charles  had  just  been  proclaimed  King.  While 
Charles  was  wandering  from  one  place  of  refuge  to 
another  under  various  disguises,  and  seeking  a  boat 
to  bear  him  from  the  shores  of  England,  Cromwell 
re-entered  London  in  triumph,  surrounded  by  mem- 
bers of  the  Parliament,  the  Council  of  State,  the 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


51 


Common   Council  of  the  City,   and   an  immense 
crowd  proclaiming  him  their  deliverer. 

Jealousies  and  hatreds  were  for  a  moment  for- 
gotten in  the  joy  of  deliverance  from  great   and 
imminent  danger.      The  Parliament  heaped  gifts 
and  favours  upon  Cromwell ;  among  others,  a  large 
grant  of  lands,  and  the  palace  of  Hampton  Court 
as   a    residence.     But  though  the  most  distrustful 
lavished   marks  of  gratitude  and   deference  upon 
him,  the  enthusiasm  of  the  republican  part  of  the 
people   was  more  sincere  and  more  valuable.     No 
sooner  has  a  revolution  levelled  the  ancient  dio-- 
nities  and  grandeurs  of  a  country  in  the  dust,  than 
its  authors  are  eager  to  raise  up  new  ones ;  their 
safety  and  their   pride   are  equally   concerned  in 
seeing  their  work  illustrated  by  glorious  symbols, 
which  they   imagine   will   compensate   society  for 
those  they  have  destroyed.     Hence  the   pompous 
displays,  the  inordinate  flatteries,   the  idolatry  of 
language,  with  which  popular  bodies,  however  de- 
mocratic, delight  to  intoxicate  the  men  who  climb 
on  the  ruins  they  have  made.      Sectaries  and  phi- 
losophers,   citizens   and    soldiers,    parliament    and 
people,  all,  willingly  or  unwillingly,  concurred  in 
enhancing  Cromwell's  greatness,  as  if  they  them- 
selves were  rendered  greater  by  it.     The  republicans 
of  the  city  of  London,  who  went  out  to  harans-ue 
him  on  his  return,  told  him,  with  exultation,  that 
he  was  born  "  to  bind  kings  with  chains,  and  nobles 

e2 


52 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


with  fetters  of  iron."  They  were  too  short-sighted 
to  perceive  that  these  fetters  would  soon  gall  their 
own  hands. 

Cromwell  received  these  honours  and  flatteries 
with  an  humihty  which,  though  the  result  of  calcu- 
lation, was  not  wholly  destitute  of  sincerity,  "  To 
God  alone,"  he  continually  repeated,  *'  belongs  the 
glory:  I  am  only  his  weak  and  unworthy  instru- 
ment" He  knew  liow  acceptable  this  language 
was  to  his  country  and  his  party ;  and  he  exagge- 
rated it  by  incessant  and  emphatic  repetitions,  to 
please  the  men  whose  confidence  and  attachment  he 
thus  raised  to  the  highest  pitch.  But  it  was  also 
the  expression  of  his  own  inmost  thoughts.  The 
power  and  providence  of  God,  His  continual  action 
on  the  affairs  of  the  world  and  the  souls  of  men, 
were  not,  in  Cromwell's  mind,  cold  abstractions,  or 
worn-out  traditions,  but  deep  and  sincere  convic- 
tions. Though  his  faith  neither  restrained  his 
actions  under  the  temptations  of  life,  nor  made  him 
scrupulous  about  the  measures  necessary  to  success, 
it  subsisted  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  and  inspired 
his  words  when  he  was  strongly  moved  by  the 
greatness  of  circumstances  or  of  his  own  situation. 
It  costs  a  man  little,  however,  to  talk  humbly,  and 
to  call  himself  the  instrument  of  God,  when  God 
makes  his  instrument  the  master  of  nations.  Nei- 
ther Cromwell's  power  nor  pride  were  any  losers  by 
his  humility. 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


53 


His  ambition  not  onlv  rose  with  his  station,  but 
soared  above  it.  While  his  language  was  so 
humble,  sudden  airs  of  sovereignty  occasionally 
betrayed  what  was  passing  within  him.  On  the 
field  of  Worcester,  he  wanted  to  grant  knighthood 
to  two  of  his  bravest  generals,  Lambert  and  Fleet- 
ivood,  and  desisted  with  great  ill-humour  on  being 
told  that  this  was  a  royal  prerogative.  When  he 
made  his  triumphal  entry  into  London,  and  was 
greeted  on  all  sides  by  popular  acclamations,  Hugh 
Peters,  the  sectarian  preacher,  who  knew  him  well, 
was  so  struck  with  his  countenance  as  he  passed, 
that  he  exclaimed,  "Cromwell  will  make  himself 
our  king."  He  had  just  saved  the  Republic,  and 
subjugated  two  kingdoms,  and  as  there  was  no 
longer  anything  great  for  him  to  do  at  a  distance 
and  by  arms,  he  remained  in  London.  Here  then, 
on  the  one  side,  was  Cromwell,  powerful  and  unem- 
ployed, constantly  receiving  the  visits  of  his  oflScers 
and  soldiers,  and  becoming  the  depositary  of  all  dis- 
contents, and  the  centre  of  all  hopes :  on  the  other, 
the  mutilated  Parliament,  not  more  than  sixty  or 
eighty  members  of  which  met  daily ;  some  of  them 
earnestly  and  honestly  intejit  on  the  business  of 
the  nation,  but  the  greater  number  engaged  in  a 
scramble  for  places  for  themselves  or  their  depend- 
ants; making  their  power  subservient  to  their 
fortunes,  or  to  their  mean  hatreds  and  vulgar  quar- 
rels;   sinking   deeper   and   deeper   in   selfishness; 


54 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


isolated,  unpopular,  incapable  of  giving  to  the 
country  either  repose,  or  liberty,  or  security ;  yet 
apparently  resolved  to  retain  the  sovereign  power, 
as  if  the  safety  of  England  could  require  the  per- 
petuation of  so  miserable  a  government. 

For  a  long  time  Cromwell  hesitated.     When,  at 
the  moment  of  his  triumph,  he  resumed  his  seat 
in  Parliament,  he  had  armed  himself  for  the  con- 
flict with   two   great   and   popular  questions  ; — a ' 
general    amnesty  proclaiming  the    termination   of 
civil  war,  and  an  electoral  law  regulating  the  mode 
and  time  of  convoking  a  new  parliament.     These 
two  measures  had   long   been   proposed,  but  had 
remained  buried  in  committees,  and  had  only  been 
brought   out  on   critical  days  to  gain  popularity. 
By    Cromwell's    influence     they   now    underwent < 
serious   discussion.      The  amnesty  was  voted  with 
difficulty,  after  five  months'  debate,  and  numerous 
attempts  at  restrictions,  especially  pecuniary  ones ; 
these,   however,    were    triumphantly   defeated    by 
Cromwell,  who  had  too  much  sense  to  indulge  in 
useless  animosities,  and  was  anxious  to  gain  adhe- 
rents and  friends  from  all  parties.     But  the  decisive 
measure,  the  law  of  election,  remained  in  suspense. 
Cromwell  pressed  for  it;  not  however  with  ardour, 
and  rather  in  order  to  exhibit  in  a  strong  light  the 
selfishness   of  the   parliamentary  leaders,   than  to 
bring  the  debate  to  a  speedy  issue.     He  was  himself 
greatly  perplexed.   What  plausible  arguments  could 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


55 


be  found  to  induce  the  Parliament  to  dissolve  itself? 
What  would  be  the  result  of  new  elections  ?     And 
would  even  new  elections  suffice  to  raise  the  cha- 
racter of  the   government   and  give   it  stability? 
Was  the  experiment  of  a  Republic  a  successful  one  ? 
Was   not    Monarchy   more    conformable  with   the 
laws,  the  habits,  the  sentiments,  and  the  permanent 
interests  of  the  country  ?     If  the  country  wanted 
and  wished  for  monarchy,  how  was  it  to  be  restored  ? 
and  in  what  measure  ?  and  in  whose  person  ?   These 
questions  were  asked  by   Cromwell,  not  only  in 
intimate  conversation   with   a   few   leading   men, 
but  in  conferences  to  which  he  invited  officers  of 
the  army  and  members  of  the  parliament.     Their 
answers  aflforded  him  little  satisfaction.   The  officers 
of    the   army   persisted    in    their    republicanism; 
the   politicians   inclined   to   monarchy  would   hear 
of  none  but  the  ancient  one,  and  advised  Cromwell 
to  treat  with   its  representative  and  his   partisans 
for  its  restoration.     At  this  he  broke  off  the  con- 
versation, but  afterwards  returned  to  the   charge, 
supple  in  appearance,  but  at  bottom   inflexible  in 
his   ambitious   purposes;    frank   even   to   audacity 
when  he  wanted  to  carry    men   along  with  him  ; 
shamelessly  hypocritical    and    deceitful   when    he 
wished  to  conceal  his  intentions.      One  advantage 
he  never  failed  to  gain  from   these  intrigues ;    he 
committed  the  army  more  and  more  deeply  to  his 
struggle  with  the  Parliament.      The  army,  which 


56 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


57 


retained  much  of  its  original  sectarian  spirit,  while 
it  had  acquired  the  military  spirit  during  its  long 
and  formidable  warfare,  combined  the  passions  of 
the  fanatic  with  the  interests  of  the  soldier.  Crom- 
well laboured  incessantly  to  turn  both  against 
the  Parliament.  What  an  iniquity  it  was  that 
what  was  due  to  the  conquerors  should  be  So  ill 
paid,  and  that  men  who  had  neither  fought  nor 
suffered  should  reap  all  the  fruits  of  victory  !  What 
an  insult  to  God  that  the  counsels  of  his  saints 
should  be  so  little  heeded  !  Petitions  presented  by 
the  council-general  of  officers,  in  the  name  of  the 
whole  army,  haughtily  demanded  that  their  arrears 
should  be  paid,  that  the  abuses  in  the  government 
should  be  reformed,  and  that  the  hopes  of  God's 
people  should  be  fulfilled.  The  Parliament,  thus 
threatened,  defended  itself,  and  angrily  attacked 
in  its  turn.  It  urged  the  dismissal  of  a  consider- 
able part  of  the  army,  and  put  up  to  sale  that  very 
palace  of  Hampton  Court  which  it  had  given  to 
Cromwell  as  a  residence.  This  state  of  things 
subsisted  for  a  year  and  a  half.  Both  sides  felt 
that  the  crisis  was  at  hand.  Which  would  be 
master  ?  The  Parliament  suddenly  resolved  to 
urge  the  very  dissolution  that  had  been  required  of 
it.  It  entered  warmly  into  the  discussion  and  the 
decision  of  the  electoral  law.  But  the  object  of 
this  law  was  to  maintain  the  power  in  the  very 
hands  from  which  it  ought  to  have  been  withdrawn. 


i 


The  actual  members  of  the  Republican  Parliament 
were  to  be,  of  right,  and  without  any  re-election, 
members  of  the  new  parliament ;  the  elections  were 
only  to  fill  up  the  vacancies  in  the  assembly  so  as 
to  complete  the  number  required  by  law.  And 
that  the  scheme  might  give  entire  security  to  the 
possessors  of  power,  the  committee  charged  with 
the  scrutiny  of  the  new  elections,  and  empowered 
to  admit  or  reject  the  elected,  was  to  consist  only  of 
old  members. 

This   was   not   a    dissolution    of  a   Parliament, 
it   was  a  renewal   and  perpetuation  of  the  same. 
Cromwell  no  longer  hesitated.      Suddenly  break- 
ing up  a  conference  of  officers  assembled    at  his 
house  at  Whitehall,  he  went  down  to  the  House 
of  Commons,  and  silently  took  his  seat  in  the  midst 
of  the  discussion  on  the  law  of  election.      At  the 
moment  when  it  was  about  to  be  put  to  the  vote, 
he  rose  with  premeditated  abruptness  and  violence, 
and,  taking  advantage  of  the  discredit  into  which  the 
leaders  had  already  fallen  to  overwhelm  them  with 
gross  insults,  which  he  knew  would  discredit  them 
still  further,  he  told  them  that  they  were  no  lono-er  a 
parliament,  ordered  a  troop  of  soldiers  to  drive  them 
out  of  the  house  as  intruders  too  long  tolerated, 
and  thus  put  a  sudden  end  to  the  Long  Parliament. 

Nobody  resisted,  not  a  voice  was  raised  in  its 
defence;  for  though  it  had  warm  and  faithful 
friends,  its  party  was  npt  numerous,  and   it  had 


\ 


^ 


58 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


59 


military  force  and  public  opinion  against  it.  All 
the  Other  parties,  whether  they  approved  Cromwell 
or  not,  rejoiced  at  the  expulsion  of  the  parlia- 
ment as  an  act  of  justice  and  a  deliverance  of  the 
nation.  Intimidated  or  impotent,  the  vanquished 
silently  submitted ;  and  the  revolutionary  leaders, 
who  had  carried  on  civil  war  for  nine  years,  driven 
three-fourths  of  their  colleagues  from  their  seats, 
condemned  their  King  to  death,  and  tyrannically 
changed  the  constitution  of  their  country,  were 
compelled  to  acknowledge  that  the  work  of  go- 
verning is  far  greater  and  more  difficult  than  they 
had  suspected  it  to  be  before  they  sank  under  it. 


The  Republic  had  been  established  in  the  name 
of  Liberty,  but,  under  the  rule  of  the  Parliament, 
liberty  had  been  a  vain  name,  covering  the 
tyranny  of  a  faction.  After  the  expulsion  of  the 
Parliament,  the  Republic  became  in  its  turn  an 
empty  word,  preserved  like  one  of  those  falsehoods 
which  still  serve  a  purpose,  though  they  have  ceased 
to  deceive ;  and  the  despotism  of  one  man  con- 
stituted for  five  years  the  Government  of  England. 
Despotism,  in  an  energetic  and  powerful  nation, 
which  has  submitted  to  it  in  a  fit  of  perplexity  or 
lassitude;  can  subsist  only  on  two  conditions— order 
and  greatness.     Cromwell,  once  master,  displayed 


,'-< 


all  the  resources  of  his  genius  in  impressing  this 
character  on  his  government.     A  stranger  to  the 
rancorous  passions,  the  narrow  and  invincible  pre- 
judices, which  characterize  the  sway  of  factions,  it 
was  his  desire  that  all,  without  distinction  of  origin 
or   party.  Cavaliers  and   Presbyterians,  as  well  as 
Republicans,  might  find  protection  and  security  for 
their  civil  interests,  provided  they  aGstained  from 
political  intrigues.     The  act  imposing  the  oath  of 
fidelity  on  all  Englishmen,  under  pain  of  legal  dis- 
abilities,  was   abrogated.      The   administration   of 
justice  was  once  more  regular  and  habitually  im- 
partial.    Cromwell,  as  revolutionary  general,  had 
gained   intelligence  and  won  over  adherents  from 
all  parties;  Cromwell,  Protector  of  the   Republic, 
endeavoured  to  rally  round  his  government  all  the 
higher  elements  of  society.     He  had  too  much  good 
sense  to  desert  the  friends  by  whom  he  had  risen  to 
eminence,  and  to  throw  himself  on  the  mercy  of  his 
former  enemies;  but  a  superior  instinct  taught  him 
that  so  long  as  a  government  is  not  accepted  and 
sustained  by  those  whom  their  position,  their  inte- 
rests and  their  habits  render  the  natural  supporters 
of  political  order,  nothing  can  be  completely  orga- 
nized or  firmly  established.     This  impetuous  leader 
of  popular  innovators  manifested  the  greatest  respect 
tqr   time-hallowed  institutions.     The  sectaries,   in 
their  aversion  to  human  learning  and   aristocratic 
or  royal  endowments,  sought  to  destroy  the  Univer- 


60 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


sities  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge.  Cromwell  saved 
them.  Great  by  nature,  and  elevated  by  fortune, 
he  soon  acquired  a  taste  for  all  that  was  great  and 
lofty  in  talents  and  learning,  present  fame  or 
ancient  tradition ;  he  delighted  to  surround  him- 
self with  all  that  was  eminent,  and  to  protect  it 
against  coarse  and  vulgar  antipathy.  In  support 
of  this  policy,  in  the  maintenance  of  law  and  order 
for  all,  in  the  re-establishment  of  authority  and  the 
enforcement  of  respect,  he  employed  that  very  army 
with  which  he  had  overthrown  so  many  ancient 
dignities  and  powers ;  though  its  rigorous  discipline 
and  its  devotedness  to  him  were  barelv  sufficient  to 
repress  the  half-extinguished  passions  which  still 
smouldered  in  its  ranks. 

In  the  foreign  relations  of  England,  Cromwell 
took  a  still  juster  view  of  the  interests  of  his 
country  and  of  his  own  position,  and  being  less 
trammelled  by  party  ties,  obtained  a  much  more 
complete  success. 

The  first  object  of  his  policy  was  peace.  From 
the  moment  of  his  accession  to  power,  he  laboured 
to  re-establish  or  to  confirm  it  throughout  Europe ; 
with  Holland,  Portugal,  and  Denmark.  Laying 
aside  not  only  those  dreams  of  republican  and 
protestant  fusion  which  he  had  formerly  enter- 
tained and  fostered,  but  also  religious  and  party 
animosities,  he  was  eager  to  settle  differences,  and  to 
close  open  questions ;  he  was  sometimes  captious  and 


\...,.:i.j~^    .'. 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


61 


!■' 


haughty  in  asserting  the  dignity  of  a  new  govern- 
ment, but  always  guided  by  good  sense,  never 
making  extravagant  demands,  nor  indulging  chime- 
rical schemes  of  ambition  ;  and  requiring  abroad 
nothing  but  what  was  essential  to  the  strength  and 
security  of  his  government  at  home. 

Peace  once  secured,  the  next  object  of  his  policy 
was  neutrality.  It  was  just  at  the  crisis  of  the 
struggle  between  the  Houses  of  Austria  and  Bourbon, 
between  Spain  in  her  decline  and  France  in  her 
ascension.  Both  made  eager  and  even  disgraceful 
efforts  to  secure  England  as  an  ally.  Cromwell 
listened  to  both,  gave  to  both  just  as  much  hope 
as  suited  his  own  purposes,  but  bound  himself  to 
neither.  On  mature  consideration,  he  thought  that 
from  Spain  there  was  less  to  hope,  less  to  fear,  and 
more  to  conquer.  He  hoped  to  lay  a  broad  founda- 
tion for  the  power  and  commerce  of  England  in  the 
New  World.  He  therefore  quitted  his  neutral  posi- 
tion, but  with  so  much  judgment  and  moderation, 
that  whilst,  across  the  seas,  his  war  with  Spain  was 
followed  by  the  conquest  of  Jamaica,  and  near  home 
his  alliance  with  France  secured  to  him  possession 
of  Dunkirk,  he  never  took  so  decided  a  part  in  the 
contest  of  the  two  powers  as  to  compromise  the  in- 
dependence of  the  foreign  policy  of  his  country. 

It  was  the  constant  rule  of  that  policy,  during  his 
whole  government,  to  be  neither  systematic  nor 
violent,  and  to  meddle  no  more  in  the  affairs  of 


62 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


others  than  his  own  really  required.     For  example, 
the  Stuarts  had  taken  refuge  in  France,  where  the 
court  showed  them  favour,  though  timidly.     That 
kingdom  was  then  disturbed  by  the  attempts  of  the 
Fronde  to  stir  up  a  civil  war.     The  Protestants, 
though  not  perhaps  persecuted,  were  uneasy  and 
discontented.       The   occasion    appeared   excellent, 
and  the  temptation  was  strong,  for  Cromwell  to 
interfere  to  annoy  his  enemies,  and  to  protect  the 
political  and  religious  cause  to  which  he  owed  all 
his  greatness.     The  Prince  of  Conde,  and  the  city  of 
Bordeaux,  the  chief  and  the  stronghold  of  the  insur- 
gents, earnestly  solicited  him  to  that  effect ;  sending 
embassies,  and  reiterating  their  prayers  and  offers  to 
obtain  his  support.    Cromwell  received  their  envoys, 
entertained  them  with  hopes,  sent  in  his  turn  agents 
to  France,  who  Avere  commissioned  to  sound  the 
dispositions  and  to  ascertain  the  strength  of  the  Pro- 
testants and  the   Frondeurs,  and  thus  gave  serious 
uneasiness  to  Mazarin.     Finding,  however,  that  the 
French  malcontents  had  no  real  strength,  able  con- 
duct, or  chance  of  success,  he  silenced  all  promptings 
of  ambition  and  passion,  disregarded  all  the  offers 
he  had  received  and  all  the  hopes  he  had  awakened, 
and  treated  with  Mazarin,  taking  advantage  of  the 
fears  he   had  inspired  him    with,  to  extort   more 
favourable  terms. 

When  an  occasion  of  succouring  oppressed  Pro- 
testantism, less  tempting  indeed,  but  also  less  likely 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


63 


i] 


f 


to  involve  the  country  in  trouble,  presented  itself, 
Cromwell  seized  it  with  eagerness.  In  order  to  pro- 
tect some  poor  peasants  driven  out  of  their  valley 
by  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  he  sent  declarations,  em- 
bassies, money,  and  threats ;  called  on  the  Court  of 
France  to  interfere,  if  it  did  not  wish  that  he 
should  do  so;  implicated  the  United  Provinces 
and  the  Swiss  Cantons  in  his  measures;  attained 
his  end  solely  by  moral  force,  and  thus  procured  a 
signal  satisfaction  to  the  religious  sentiments  of  the 
English  people,  without  involving  them  in  any  for- 
midable or  uncertain  conflict. 

Whenever  English  interests  of  real,  though  se- 
condary importance,  required  protection  or  re- 
paration, Cromwell  gave  them  energetic  support, 
while  he  carefully  kept  them  distinct  from  general 
or  exciting  questions.  He  sent  Admiral  Blake  at 
the  head  of  a  large  squadron  into  the  Mediterra- 
nean, with  orders  to  present  himself  wherever  Eng- 
land had  any  claims  to  urge  or  complaints  to  make. 
Blake  appeared  successively  before  Leghorn,  Al- 
giers, Tunis,  and  Tripoli,  setthng  all  disputes  with 
a  high  hand,  though  without  inflaming  them,  and 
never  retiring  till  he  had  obtained,  by  good  will  or 
by  force,  the  redress  of  his  country's  grievances. 

These  various  efforts,  constantly  crowned  with  suc- 
cess, were  not  fruitless ;  but,  nevertheless,  they  did  not 
accomplish  the  true  and  ultimate  purpose  of  the  con- 
queror.   This  government,  which  was  so  active  with- 


64 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


65 


out  temerity,  and  so  adroit  in  flattering  the  national 
passions  without  servility ;  which  raised  the  dignity 
of  the  country  abroad  without  involving  it  in  disputes, 
and  maintained  order  at  home  by  means  of  revolu- 
tionary soldiers,  did  not  take  root  in  the  country. 
Cromwell  was  obeyed,  feared,  admired ;  England 
submitted  to  his  genius  and  his  vigour,  but  did  not 
accept  his  rule.     Consummate  in  the  art  of  drawing 
men  around  him,  he  daily  detached  some  from  the 
old  parties,  and  persuaded  them  to  take  active  ser- 
vice under  him,  or  at  least  to  desist  from  all  hostihty. 
Good  sense  and  weariness  of  civil  dissensions,  per- 
sonal interest  and  weakness,  baseness  and  perfidy, 
gave  to  him,  as  largely  as  to  any  man  that  ever  ruled 
a  people,  all  the   support  which  such    springs   of 
action  can  afford  to  power.      But  the  old  parties. 
Cavaliers,  Presbyterians,  and  Republicans,  still  sub- 
sisted, and  though  kept  down,  w^ere  still  vigorous, 
and  neither  hopeless  nor  inactive.     During  the  five 
years  of  Cromwell's   reign,  fifteen   conspiracies  or 
insurrections  (not  to  speak  of  a  number  of  obscure 
attempts)  of  the  Royalists,  the  Republicans,  or  coali- 
tions  of  both    parties,    menaced    his  government. 
He  put  them  down  with  a  strong  hand ;  but,  severe 
or  clement  as  the  necessity  of  the  case  required, 
without  cruelty  and  without  pity.     He  employed  by 
turns  the  regular  action   of  the  laws  or  arbitrary 
power,  the  jury  or  exceptional  tribunals,  an  indefa- 
tigable police  or  a  devoted  army,  secret  arrests  or 


'» 


H 


public  executions,  banishment,  imprisonment,  the 
sale  of  the  conquered  rebels  as  slaves  in  the  colonies; 
everything,  in  short,  that  could  paralyze  or  strike 
terror  into  enemies.     Nothing  that  was  attempted 
against  him  succeeded.     Every  plot  was  defeated, 
and  every  rising  crushed,   the  country  taking  no 
part  in  them  and  remaining  tranquil.    But,  though 
witness     of    Cromwell's    daily    victories   over    his 
enemies,  it  had  no  faith  in  the  rightfulness  or  the 
permanency  of  his  power.     He  did  not  reign  in 
their  minds  as  a  legitimate  and  unquestioned  sove- 
reign.    At  the  summit  of  his  greatness,  he  was  in 
their  estimation  a  resistless,  but  a  temporary  master; 
without  a  present  rival,  but  without  a  prospect  of 
stability.     He  himself  felt  this,  and  knew  it  better 
than  any  one,  for  it  was  the  character  of  his  mind 
to  see  things  as  they  were.      Never  was  there  a 
great  spirit  more  ardent  in  hope  and  yet  more  free 
from  illusion.     While  engaged  in  the  overthrow  of 
constitutional  monarchy,  he  had  learned  that  this 
was  the   only  form   of  government  which    suited 
England,   or   could   hope  to   endure.      When    he 
became  master  of  the  ruined  citadel  of  the  consti- 
tution, one  thought  took   entire  possession  of  his 
mind — to  reconstruct  it  and  establish  himself  within 
its  ramparts. 

It  was  tJie  object  of  his  incessant  desire  and  labour 
to  get  together  a  Parliament  with  which  he  could 
co-operate  in  the  work  of  government.     He  con- 


66 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


67 


voked  four  in  five  years ;  sometimes  choosing,  in 
concert  with  his  ofiicers,  the  body  which  he  hypo- 
critically called  by  that  name ;  sometimes  causing 
it  to  be  elected  in  the  very  mode  which  the  Long 
Parliament  was  on  the  point  of  adopting  when 
he  drove  it  out.  He  always  treated  these  assem- 
blies with  great  solemnity  and  deference  at  first ; 
and  though  he  used  the  most  shameless  artifices 
and  the  most  unheard-of  violence  to  obtain  a 
majority,  yet,  even  at  the  very  moment  of  breaking 
with  them,  he  was  careful  not  to  lead  the  nation  to 
think  that  he  intended  to  dispense  with  their  con- 
currence. 

The  attempt  was  chimerical.  None  of  the  Roy- 
alists and  very  few  of  the  Presbyterians  consented 
to  sit  in  his  Parliaments.  They  were  composed 
almost  exclusively  of  the  various  factions  of  the  re- 
publican party,  amongst  which  the  greatest  irritation 
and  dissension  prevailed.  Cromwell's  partizans 
were  not  men  to  succeed  by  parliamentary  tactics 
or  talents  for  debate :  his  enemies,  far  more  exer- 
cised in  that  sort  of  warfare,  displayed  all  its 
resources  to  injure  him;  he  had  to  encounter  men 
whom  he  had  overthrown,  who  were  sincerely  and 
passionately  opposed  to  his  tyranny,  obstinate  in 
their  anarchical  ideas  and  habits,  and  no  less  ungo- 
vernable than  incapable  of  governing.  He  himself 
was  continually  furnishing  them  with  subjects  of 
complaint,  and  putting  arms  into  their  hands ;  for. 


w 


in  his  ascent  to  absolute  power,  he  had  not  learned 
respect  for  rights,  or  patience  under  resistance  and 
contradiction.  Taught  by  an  instinctive  sagacity 
that,  in  his  despotic  loneliness,  he  was  unable  to 
found  any  permanent  institutions,  or  even  to  conso- 
lidate his  own  power,  he  summoned  a  parliament, 
hoping  with  its  help  to  create  a  durable  government. 
But  as  that  assembly,  when  convened,  did  not  con- 
tain the  natural  elements  of  a  conservative  party, 
and  was  under  the  influence  of  men  who  had  no 
ability  for  anything  but  destruction,  Cromwell  soon 
found  it  impossible  to  endure  either  their  just 
liberty  or  their  insane  violence;  and  indignantly 
broke  the  instrument  which  he  always  found  unma- 
nageable, though  he  knew  it  to  be  indispensable. 

At  length  he  thought  he  had  succeeded  in  as- 
sembling a  Parliament  which  would  understand  and 
second  his  designs.  He  lost  no  time  in  causing  the 
idea  which  possessed  him,  the  restoration  of  the 
English  monarchy  in  its  ancient  and  complete 
form,  to  be  laid  before  it.  The  proposal  was 
made  and  debated  in  parliament,  and  publicly 
negotiated  during  more  than  two  months  between 
that  body  and  the  Protector.  In  this  affair  Cromwell 
displayed  that  strange  mixture  of  impetuosity  and 
caution,  profound  ability  and  gross  hypocrisy,  which 
he  owed  alike  to  nature  and  to  art.  His  prudence 
was  almost  equal  to  his  ambition.  He  did  not  choose 
to  purchase  his  accession  to  royalty  at  the  price  of  a 

F  2 


K 


68 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


division  in  his  party,  already  so  narrow  and  tottering 
a  base  for  a  government  to  rest  on.  He  wanted 
to  become  King  without  exposing  the  Protector  to 
peril;  he  wanted  not  only  that  the  crown  should 
be  offered  to  him,  but  that  all  the  men  of  import- 
ance by  whom  he  was  surrounded,  sectaries  or 
politicians,  officers  or  magistrates,  should  commit 
themselves  to  the  offer.  Even  before  the  institu- 
tion of  the  Protectorate  and  the  expulsion  of  the 
Long  Parliament,  he  had  sounded  them  and 
endeavoured  to  prepare  them  for  this  event. 
He  was  now  engaged  in  his  final  struggle,  and 
his  efforts  to  work  upon  them  were  infinite  and 
unwearied.  These  efforts  were  sometimes  direct, 
sometimes  circuitous ;  he  addressed  himself  by  turns 
to  their  interests,  their  affections,  and  their  reason ; 
he  tried  to  make  them  understand  that  the  revo- 
lution which  they  had  effected,  and  their  own 
situation  as  well  as  his,  would  remain  weak  and 
precarious,  so  long  as  they  should  not  have  esta- 
blished themselves  jointly  in  that  frame  of  govern- 
ment on  which  all  the  laws  of  tlie  country  were 
founded,  and  to  which  all  the  habits  of  obedience 
and  respect  of  the  English  people  were  attached.  He 
convinced  the  reason  or  carried  away  the  feelings  of 
so  many  men,  even  among  the  officers  of  the  army 
who  were  the  longest  recalcitrant,  that  he  believed, 
and  was  justified  in  believing,  himself  sure  of  success. 
The  proposition  was  carried  through  Parliament, 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


69 


and  the  Crown  officially  offered  to  him.  He 
adjourned  his  answer,  in  the  hope  of  conquering 
the  last  remaining  attempts  at  opposition.  It  was 
in  the  circle  which  immediately  surrounded  him, 
and  especially  among  the  generals  most  intimately 
attached  to  his  person,  that  he  met  with  resistance. 
It  was  insurmountable,  being  founded  on  sincere 
republican  enthusiasm,  on  a  feeling  of  shame  at 
an  act  which  would  belie  the  whole  tenor  of  their 
lives,  and  on  the  resentment  of  humiliated  rivalry. 
Cromwell,  flattering  himself  that  these  were  but 
the  humours  of  a  few  individuals,  determined  to 
take  no  heed  of  their  opposition,  and  to  place  upon 
his  head  the  crown  which  appeared  within  his 
grasp.  At  that  very  moment,  however,  he  learned 
that  a  petition,  drawn  up  by  one  of  his  chaplains 
and  signed  by  a  great  number  of  officers,  was 
solemnly  presented,  in  the  name  of  the  army,  to 
Parliament,  calling  upon  it  to  remain  faithful  to  the 
good  old  cause,  and  proclaiming  the  most  decided 
hostility  to  the  re-establishment  of  the  monarchy. 
Cromwell  immediately  summoned  the  Parliament 
to  Whitehall;  and,  expressing  astonishment  that 
they  should  affect  to  protest  against  his  answer 
before  it  was  given,  formally  refused  the  title  of 
King. 

He  was  a  man  of  too  clear  and  perspicacious  a 
mind  not  to  perceive  the  weakness  and  insecurity 
inherent  in  his  position,  and  he  strove  to  place  it 


'A 


70 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


on  a  foundation  fortified  by  law  and  consecrated  by 
time;  but  in  vain.  It  was  not  the  will  of  God 
that  the  man  who  had  caused  the  death  of  his 
king  and  trodden  under  foot  the  liberties  of  his 
country,  should  reap  the  honour  and  the  profit  of 
restoring  the  Monarchy  and  the  Parliament.  In  his 
struggles  with  the  difficulties  of  his  situation,  Crom- 
well was  successful  against  anarchy,  but  he  con- 
stantly relapsed  into  despotism.  He  had  rendered 
the  civil  administration  of  the  country  impartial ; 
yet,  urged  by  the  necessity  of  finding  resources  for 
his  government,  he  subjected  the  royalist  party  to 
the  most  iniquitous  exactions,  and  the  whole  country 
to  a  military  tyranny  by  which  alone  those  exac- 
tions could  be  enforced.  He  boasted  of  having 
restored  the  regularity  and  the  imposing  splendour 
of  the  administration  of  justice;  yet,  when  illus- 
trious advocates  defended  the  objects  of  his  prosecu- 
tions, or  when  upright  judges  refused  to  condemn 
them  contrary  to  law,  he  ill-treated,  dismissed,  and 
imprisoned  those  honourable  men  with  a  violence 
worthv  of  the  worst  times.  To  re-establish  the 
legal  monarchy,  without  renouncing  revolutionary 
violence,  was  to  attempt  an  impossibility.  Crom- 
well already  enjoyed  a  rare  privilege ;  he  had 
emerged  from  the  chaos  of  revolution  to  the  dicta- 
torship ;  but  the  far  higher  honour  of  transforming 
the  dictatorship  into  a  government  of  law  and  liberty 
was  denied  him. 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


71 


In  this  perilous  trial  he  displayed  a  prudence 
which  saved  him.  He  persisted  till  the  last 
moment,  but  he  saw  when  persistance  would  be 
useless  and  dangerous,  and  he  stopped.  England, 
which  had  seen  him  draw  back,  and  the  Repub- 
licans, who  had  reduced  him  to  that  necessity, 
still  wanted  and  still  feared  him.  His  position, 
therefore,  remained  intact,  and  he  was  not  the 
less  powerful  as  Protector  because  he  had  failed 
to  make  himself  King.  He  did  not  abandon  his 
design.  He  even  took  measures  for  convoking 
a  new  Parliament;  doubtless  promising  himself 
that,  as  he  had  formerly  subjugated  the  Parliament 
by  means  of  the  army,  he  should  at  some  future 
time  subjugate  the  army  by  means  of  the  Parlia- 
ment. But  already  the  hand  which  was  to  crush 
his  own  iron  nature  lay  heavy  upon  him.  For 
some  time  past  his  health  had  been  failing,  and  his 
illness  was  now  aggravated  by  domestic  sorrows, 
especially  by  the  loss  of  his  favourite  daughter. 
He  declined  rapidly,  but  he  struggled  against 
death.  The  numerous  trials  he  had  triumph- 
antly passed  through,  the  great  things  he  had 
done  and  had  still  to  do,  the  urgent  need  of  his 
presence,  the  force  of  his  will — all  contributed  to 
persuade  him  that  he  had  not  attained  the  term  of 
his  life.  He  said  among  his  most  intimate  friends, 
**  I  am  sure  I  shall  not  die  to-day — I  know  that  God 
will  not  have  me  die  yet."     But  God  had  formed 


n 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


Cromwell  to  be  a  striking  example  to  the  world 
of  what  a  great  man  can  do — and  of  what  he  cannot 
do.  His  destiny  was  accomplished.  By  the  sole 
might  of  his  genius  he  had  made  himself  master  of 
his  country,  and  of  the  revolution  which  he  had 
let  loose  upon  his  country;  he  remained  to  his 
latest  hour  in  full  possession  of  his  greatness ;  and 
he  died,  consuming  his  genius  and  his  power  in 
an  ineffectual  effort  to  restore  what  he  had  destroyed 
— a  Parliament  and  a  King. 


In  the  anarchy  into  which  England  was  thrown 
by  his  death,  she  enjoyed  one  of  those  rare  felicities 
of  which  it  is  difficult  to  decide  whether  they  are 
the    immediate    gift   of  Heaven,   or  are   in   part 
attributable  to   human   wisdom.     The  termination 
of  that  anarchy  was  not  factitious,  incomplete,  or 
precipitate.     All   the   ambitions,   pretensions,  and 
other  elements  of  political  strife  or  chaos  which 
Cromwell  had  kept  down,  started  into  fresh  acti- 
vity, and  renewed  their  warfare  on  that  scene  which 
he   had  filled  alone.     His   son  Richard  was   pro- 
claimed Protector  without  obstacle,  and  was  even 
recognized  without   hesitation    by  foreign  powers. 
But  hardly  had  he  attempted  to  govern,  when  he 
was  pressed  upon  by  a  crowd  of  advisers,  who  were 
soon  to  become  his  enemies  and  his  rivals : by  a 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


73 


new  and  more  popular  council  of  the  army  under 
the  title  of  a  Council-general  of  Officers ;  by  the  new 
Parliament,  which  he  himself  hastened  to  convoke; 
by  the   old   Long  Parliament  (or,  as  the  people 
called  it,  the  Rump),  which  asserted  its  exclusive 
claim  to  the  legislative  power,  on  the  plea  that  it 
had  been  authorized  by  the  King  (whom  it  had  put 
to  death)  to  subsist  till  it  should  be  dissolved  by  its 
own  act ;  and  lastly,  by  the  same  Long  Parliament, 
recruited  with  the  members  whom,  before  the  King's 
death,  it  had  driven  from  its  body,  and  who  now 
forcibly   resumed   the  seats  from  which  they  had 
been  forcibly  expelled.     These  various  phantoms  of 
power  aspired  to  fill  the  place  of  the  master  spirit 
by  whom  they  had  all  been  driven  from  the  scene. 
During  more  than  twenty  months  they  appeared, 
vanished,  and  reappeared,  in  a  hopeless  confusion  of 
coalitions  and  conflicts  ;   while  not  one  of  them,  for 
a  single  day,  acquired  the  consistency  and  force  of 
government. 

During  this  interregnum  of  twenty  months,  and 
in  the  midst  of  this  ridiculous  outbreak  of  chi- 
merical pretensions,  the  only  competitor  who  did 
not  appear  was  he  upon  whom  the  thoughts,  hopes, 
and  fears  of  all  England  were  fixed — the  only  one 
whose  claims  were  serious.  Two  or  three  insigni- 
ficant movements,  which  did  not  go  beyond  a  de- 
mand for  the  convocation  of  a  free  Parliament, 
and  in  which  the  name  of  Charles  Stuart  was  not 


74 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


even  mentioned,  were  attempted  in  his  favour,  but 
were  repressed  instantly  and  without  a  struggle. 

It  was  the  memory  of  Cromwell  which  even  now 
held  the  royalist  party  in  a  state  of  fear  and  in- 
action. He  had  so  often  frustrated  their  hopes,  and 
had  crushed  their  plots  and  their  risings  with  so 
rude  a  hand,  that  they  had  lost  all  confidence  in  the 
success  of  their  projects.  Moreover,  their  long 
reverses  had  taught  them  good  sense.  They  had 
learned  not  to  take  their  wishes  for  the  measure  oi 
their  powers ;  and  to  understand  that,  if  Charles 
Stuart  was  to  regain  the  crown,  it  could  only  be 
by  the  general  will  and  act  of  England,  not  by  an 
insurrection  of  Cavaliers. 

Richard  Cromwell  really  wished  to  put  an 
end  to  the  country's  agitations  and  his  own 
by  treating  immediately  with  the  King.  He  was 
not  deficient  in  sense  or  honesty,  but  he  had 
neither  ambition  nor  greatness  of  mind.  His 
father's  career  and  destiny,  of  which  he  had  been  a 
sharer,  had  excited  in  him  a  feeling  of  fatigue 
rather  than  of  confidence.  He  did  not  believe  in 
the  recurrence  of  a  similar  success  in  his  own  case, 
nor  did  he  feel  himself  capable  of  bearing  a  similar 
burthen.  But  neither  was  he  a  man  to  take  a 
final  and  unalterable  resolution  in  so  weighty  a 
matter.  He  was  undecided  and  weak,  overwhelmed 
with  debts,  and  looking  out  on  every  side  for  the 
issue  of  what  was  pending.    He  continued  the  sport 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


75 


of  a  fortune  the  vanitv  of  which  he  felt,  and  the 
instrument  of  men  inferior  to  himself  in  under- 
standing. 

Some  solution  of  the  present  state  of  things  was 
absolutely  necessary.  All  the  men  of  mark  or 
influence  who  had  brought  about  the  revolution, 
or  whom  the  revolution  had  raised  into  notice, 
had  been  repeatedly  put  to  the  proof.  Though 
their  attempts  to  govern  the  country  had  not 
been  thwarted  or  obstructed  by  any  external  obstacle 
or  national  resistance,  none  of  them  had  succeeded. 
They  had  destroyed  each  other.  They  had  all  ex- 
hausted in  these  fruitless  conflicts  whatever  repu- 
tation or  whatever  strength  they  might  otherwise 
have  preserved.  Their  nullity  was  completely  laid 
bare.  Nevertheless,  England  was  still  at  their 
mercy.  The  nation  had  lost,  in  these  long  and 
melancholy  alternations  of  anarchy  and  despotism, 
the  habit  of  ruling,  and  the  courage  to  rule,  its  own 
destinies.  Cromwell's  army  was  still  in  existence, 
incapable  of  forming  a  government,  but  overturning 
every  one  that  did  not  please  it.  It  was  a  stranger 
to  political  parties,  a  soldier  highly  respected  by  the 
army,  a  faithful  servant  of  the  Parliament  and 
Cromwell,  and  of  even  Kichard  Cromwell  at  his 
accession,  who  perceived  that  there  was  but  one  con- 
clusion of  this  anarchy  possible,  and  endeavoured 
to  lead  his  wearied  country  to  that  goal  without  con- 
flict and  without  convulsion.     There  was  nothing 


/ 


76 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


great  in  the  character  of  Monk,  but  good  sense  and 
courage.     He  had  no  thirst  for  glory,  no  desire  for 
power,  no  lofty  principles  or  designs,  either  for  his 
country  or  himself;  but  hehad  a  profound  aversion  to 
disorder,  and  to  those  iniquitous  excesses  which  po< 
pular  parties  clothe  with  fair  promises.     He  was  at- 
tached to  his  duties  as  a  soldier  and  an  Englishman, 
not  ostentatiously,  but  with  firmness  and  modesty! 
He  was  no  charlatan  and  no   declaimer;  he  was 
discreet  even  to  taciturnity,  and  absolutely  indiffer- 
ent  to  truth  or  falsehood.     He  dissembled  with  ini- 
perturbable  coolness  and  patience  to  bring  about 
the  result  which  seemed  to  him  necessary  to  the 
welfare  of  England— the   peaceable  restoration  of 
the  only  government  which  could  be  stable  and 
regular.     All   the  rest  was,  in  his   eyes,  nothing 
more  than  a  chaos  of  doubtful  questions  and  party 
quarrels.     He  succeeded.     All  the  fractions  of  the 
great  monarchical  party  suspended   their  ancient 
animosities,  their  blind  impatience  and  their  con- 
flicting  claims,  and  united  to  support  him.     The 
Restoration  came  to  pass  like  a  natural  and  inevit- 
able  event,  without  costing  either  victors  or  van- 
quished  a  drop  of  blood ;  and  Charles  the  Second 
re-entering  London  in  the  midst  of  immense   ac- 
clamations,  could    say  with  truth,  "  It  is  certainly 
my  fault  that  I  did  not  come  back  before,  for  I  have 
seen  nobody  to-day  who  did  not  protest  that  he  had 
always  wished  for  my  return." 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


n 


Never  was  government,  old,  new,  or  restored, 
placed  in  circumstances  more  favourable  to  regu- 
larity, strength,  and  stability. 

Charles  H.  ascended  the  throne  of  his  fathers 
without  foreign  aid,  without  intestine  strife,  and 
without  even  an  effort  of  his  own,  by  the  mere 
spontaneous  act  of  the  English  nation,  which,  freed 
from  long  oppression  and  anarchy  and  from  revolu- 
tionary fluctuations,  now  looked  to  him  alone  for 
the  restoration  of  law  and  order,  and  the  establish- 
ment of  a  permanent  and  tranquil  state  of  things. 

The  revival  of  the  monarchy  naturally  followed 
upon  the  complete  exhaustion  and  total  ruin  of 
its  enemies  and  rivals.  The  Republic  and  the 
Protectorate  had  appeared  and  re-appeared  under 
every  form  and  in  every  combination  which  they 
could  assume.  All  the  men  or  the  institutions 
which  the  revolution  had  brought  to  light  were 
worn  out  and  utterly  discredited.  The  field  of 
battle  was  deserted,  and  even  the  phantoms  of  the 
revolutionary  combatants  and  pretenders  had 
vanished. 

Nor  did  royalty  revive  alone ;  for  while  the  King 
reascended  his  throne,  the  great  landholders,  the 
country  gentlemen,  and  all  the  eminent  citizens 
who  had  supported  the  royalist  cause,  resumed 
their  former  places  in  the  government  of  the  country. 


t- 


'T 


w 


78 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


The  Republicans  and  the  Protector  had  completely 
excluded  them  from  all  share  in  the  business  of  the 
country,  and  their  return  to  public  life  filled  a  great 
chasm  in  the  social  structure.     It  is  the  common 
error  of  the  authors  of  revolutions  to  imagine  that 
they  can  replace  all  that  they  destroy,  and  that 
they  are  competent  to  furnish  resources  for  all  the 
wants  of  the  state.     The    English  republicans  had 
abolished  the  House  of  Lords,  and  driven  the  roy- 
alist party  from  the  political  stage ;  but  they  had 
not  supplied  their  place  as  supports  to  authority 
against  the  assaults  of  anarchy,  or  as  defenders  of 
the  liberties  of  the  nation  against  the  encroachments 
of  despotism.   The  restoration  not  only  re-established 
hereditary  monarchy,  but  reinstated  landed  property, 
family  traditions,  and  the  most  ancient  and  noble 
portion  of  the  territorial  aristocracy  of  the  country, 
in  their  former  rank  and  influence.     The  supreme 
power  thus  recovered  its  natural  allies,  together  with 
its  principle  of  stability ;  and  political  society,  which 
had  for  eleven  years  been  mutilated  and  unsteady, 
regained  possession  of  every  source  of  strength  and 
re-established  itself  on  all  its  durable  foundations. 

The  restoration  of  the  political  government  was 
accompanied  by  that  of  the  religious  establishment. 
The  Episcopal  Church  arose  with  the  Monarchy 
from  her  long  subjection.  The^Church  of  England 
was  called  into  existence  by  thTvoiceTandlb^^ 
under  the  wing,  of  the~Temporar^w^r7  and   it^ 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


79 


II 


is  not  to  be_denied  that  this,  Avhen  compared 
with  the  purely  spiritual  origin  and  the  steadfast 
independence  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
has  been  a  g:reat_source  of  weakness_t()_  lier.  But 
England  has  derived  one  great  advantage  from 
this  defect  in  her  Church ;  it  put  an  end  to  all 
struggles  between  the  ecclesiastical  and  civil 
government.  Intimately  united  to  the  throne, 
whence  she  derived  her  strength  and  authority, 
the  Church  of  England  has  been  constantly 
and  loyally  devoted  to  it ;  and  in  spite  of  the 
stains  on  her  origin  and  the  weaknesses  of  her 
conduct,  she  has  not  been  wanting  in  fervour  of 
faith  or  purity  of  life,  nor  in  courage  and  capacity 
in  the  accomplishment  of  her  mission.  She  has 
had  her  heroes  and  her  martyrs,  unshaken  on  the 
Scaffold  or  at  the  stake,  though  often  weak  and  ob- 
sequious to  royalty.  At  her  restoration,  in  1660, 
she  had,  for  fifteen  years,  undergone  every  kind 
of  persecution  from  the  revolutionary  party ;  spolia- 
tion, suppression  of  her  worship,  insult,  imprison- 
ment, poverty.  She  had  borne  them  all  with 
dignity  and  constancy.  She  arose  from  her  abase- 
ment the  object  of  ardent  devotion  to  the  royalist 
party,  and  of  general  respect  to  the  people.  She 
brought  to  the  service  of  the  restored  monarchy 
tried  fidelity  and  an  authority  heightened  by  her 
sufferings. 

The  dispositions  of  the  English  people  coincided 


80 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY 


with  those  of  their  church.     The  sects  which  she 
had  long  oppressed,  and  which  had  oppressed  her 
in  their  turn,  had  indeed  not  ceased  to  be  her  bitter 
enemies ;  and  the  odious  or  ridiculous  excesses  of 
fanaticism  and  hypocrisy,  instead  of  giving  place  to 
a  wise  and  sincere  piety,  were  soon  followed  by  an 
inevitable  reaction  of  impiety,  frivolity,  and  cynical 
licentiousness.      This,  however,  did  not  penetrate 
below  the  surface  of  society.     While  the  court,  and 
the   classes   most   exposed   to  the   infection  of  its 
influence,  set   an  example  of  scandalous  vice  and 
impiety,  the  country  was  still  peopled  with  sincere 
and  fervent  Christians ;  some  of  these  had  always 
been  attached  to  the  Church  of  England,  or  were  re- 
conciled to  her  by  the  evils  and  disorders  which 
had    succeeded  her   fall;    others   belonged   to   the 
dissenting  sects,   which  the  church  began  to  per- 
secute    anew,    with    cruelty   sufficient   to    inflame 
their  zeal,  but  not  to  put  an  end  to  their  existence. 
The  mutual  hatred  and  strife  of  the  church  and 
the  dissenters  had  in  some  respects  a  salutary  influ- 
ence on  both.     They  observed  each  other's  conduct 
with  vigilant  jealousy;  they  mutually  enforced  a 
strict  observance  of  the  laws  of  God  and  a  constant 
solicitude  for  the  eternal  interests  of  man,  and  their 
very  differences  kept  alive  the  fervour  and  activity 
of  their  faith. 

Thus,  in  the  mass  of  the  population,  there  was 
no  want  of  moral  foundations  on  which  to  build  the 


/ 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


I\ 


lU 


81 


restored  monarchy;  whilst  in  the  classes  natu- 
rally attached  to  power  by  taste  and  habit  the 
tlirone  found  the  political  props  necessary  to  its 
stability. 

'  The  only  two  formidable  enemies  which  could 
counteract  these  propitious  circumstances,  and  en- 
danger the  safety  of  the  restored  monarchy,  were, 
the  spirit  of  revolution  and  the  spirit  of  reaction. 

The  revolutionary  spirit,  however  thoroughly  sub- 
dued, long  survives  its  defeat,  and  even  the  expe- 
rience of  its  impotence.  Of  the  two  revolutionary 
powers  which  had  ruled  England,  the  Republic  and 
the  Protector,  the  latter  had  completely  disap- 
peared ;  so  completely,  that  his  sons  were  allowed 
to  die  in  peaceful  oblivion  in  their  own  country. 
Though  the  republican  party  still  subsisted,  it 
attempted  nothing  (and,  indeed,  hoped  nothing) 
for  its  own  cause ;  but  it  ardently  joined  in  all  the 
animosities  and  plots  against  the  monarchy ;  con- 
stantly seeking  and  as  constantly  finding  rebels  and 
martyrs  in  the  persecuted  sects,  especially  in  those  of 
Scotland.  Even  the  parties  who  formed  the  con- 
stitutional opposition,  and  who  cherished  no  repub- 
lican regrets  or  desires,  were  still  much  influenced 
by  revolutionary  ideas  and  habits.  The  minds  and 
hearts  of  the  most  enlightened  among  them  were 
imbued  with  theories,  and  easily  stirred  by  passions, 
incompatible  with  the  patient  struggles  and  neces- 
sary compromises  of  constitutional  monarchy.    The 


'■  > 


N 


82 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


most  moderate  weighed  the  chances,  and  approached 
the  verge  of  fresh  revolutions,  with  a  facility  utterly 
repugnant  to  any  stable  and  legal  order  of  things. 
The  revolutionary  poison,  deadened  but  not  expelled, 
still  circulated  in  the  veins  of  a  large  portion  of  the 
English  nation,  and  kept  it  in  a  state  of  poHtical 
fever  which  threw  innumerable  obstacles  and  perils 
in  the  way  of  power. 

The  reactionary  spirit,  the  disease  of  conquering 
parties,  incessantly  exasperated  the  spirit  of  revo- 
lution.     Not   that  we  ought  to   listen  to   all   the 
reproaches  to  this  effect  which  history  lavishes  upon 
the  Cavaliers  and  the  Church  of  England.     When 
revolutions  which  have  long  reigned  unchecked  are 
at  length  arrested  in  their  course,  their  partisans 
demand,  with  singular  arrogance,  that  the  results  of 
their  past  iniquities  should  remain  untouched,  and 
that  nothing  should  be  done  or  desired  beyond  the 
repression    of  their   future   attempts  at   mischief; 
every  endeavour  to  repair  the  evil  which  they  have 
inflicted,  they  call  reaction.     Among  the  measures 
adopted  under  the  reign  of  Charles  II.  to  redress 
the    wrongs   which    the   royalists,   whether  lay  or 
ecclesiastical,  had  suffered  during  the  revolution, 
many  were  only  a  natural  and  just  restitution  of 
violated  rights.     But  both  the  rational  policy  of 
governments,  and  the  well-understood  interests  of 
the  injured  parties  themselves,  prescribe  limits  to 
such  acts  of  reparation.     Injustice  is  not  to  be  re- 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


83 


paired  by  injustice,  nor  can  revolutions  be  brought 
to  a  close  by  acts  of  provocation  and  vengeance. 
L  Reparation,   when  it  appears   vindictive,  ceases  to 
be  regarded  as  just,  and  becomes  a  source  of  serious 
danger   to  the   cause  which   it    pretends  to   serve. 
The  religious  reaction  under  Charles  II.  was  stained 
by  these  deplorable  excesses :  it  was  not  the  mere 
redress    of    the    grievances    and    wrongs    of    the 
Church  of  England  ;  it  was  a  vindictive  persecution 
of  dissenters   and  a  breach   of  faith  towards  the 
more  moderate  among  them,  to  whom  the  king, 
at  the  moment  of  his   return,  had  solemnly  pro- 
mised liberty  of  conscience.     Charles  made  seve- 
ral attempts  to  keep  his  word,  and  to  secure  some 
toleration  to  the  dissenters.  Persecution  was  repug- 
nant to  his  good  sense,  to  the  mildness  of  his  tem- 
per, to  his  indifference  in  matters  of  religion,  and  to 
his  secret  leaning  to  the  catholics.     But  his  feeble 
and  lukewarm  velleities  of  justice  soon  gave  way 
before  the  obstinacy  of  ecclesiastical  hatred  and  the 
violence  of  popular  passions ;  and  the  royalist  party, 
in  parliament  and  out  of  it,  joined  warmly  in  the 
vi^ork  of  persecution.     The  lay  reaction  which  fol- 
lowed on  the  events  of  1660  was  brief  and  limited; 
but   the  religious  reaction,  though  restrained  for 
a  moment,  soon  broke  out  with  violence,  became 
fiercer  tlie  longer  it  lasted,  and  was  the  source  of 
most  of  the  dangers,  errors  and  crimes  into  which 
Charles  and  his  government  fell. 

o  2 


} 


84 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


But  these  faults,  however  lamentable,  did  not  in 
effect  involve  the  monarchy  in  serious  danger  or 
threaten  the  safety  of  English  society.     The  body 
of  the  nation  was  no  longer  possessed  by  the  spirit 
of  revolution,  nor  was  it  governed  by  the  spirit 
of  reaction.     From  the  time  of  the  great  revolu- 
tionary crisis  which  lasted  from  1G40  to  1660,  the 
English  people  had  the  good  fortune  to  profit  by 
experience,  and  the  good  sense  not  to  give  them- 
selves up  to  extreme  parties.     In  the  midst  of  the 
most  ardent  political  struggles,  and  of  the  violences 
into  which  they  alternately  urged  and  followed  their 
leaders,  they  never  failed,  in  critical  and  decisive 
circumstances,  to  remain  or  to  fall  back  within  the 
bounds  of  that  steady  good  sense  which  consists  in  a 
clear  recognition  of  the  things  which  it  is  essential 
to  preserve,  and  an  unshaken  adherence  to  them  ;  in 
enduring  the  inconveniences  attached  to  these  essen- 
tials, and  renouncing   whatever  wishes  or  projects 
might  endanger  them.      It  is  from  the   reign  of 
Charles  II.  that  this  good  sense,  which  is  the  poli- 
tical intelligence  of  a  free  people,  has  presided  over 
the  destinies  of  England.     The  revolution  through 
which  the  English  nation  had  just  passed  had  ter- 
minated in  three  great  results.     They  were  as  yet 
confused  and  incomplete,  but  they  were  irrevocable : 
and    they  were  the   only  results  essential   to  the 
wishes  and  the  welfare  of  the  people. 
/    In  the  first  place,  the  king  could  never  again 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


85 


I 


separate  himself  from  the  parliament.  The  cause  of 
Inonarchy  was  gained,  but  that  of  absolute  monarchy 
was  lost  for  ever.  Theologians  and  philosophers, 
like  Filmer  or  Hobbes,  might  preach  the  dogma  or 
maintain  the  principle  of  absolute  power,  and  their 
ideas  might  excite  the  indignation  or  the  favour  of 
speculative  thinkers  or  vehement  partisans.  In  the 
opinion  of  the  nation,  however,  the  question  was 
practically  decided  :  royalists  and  revolutionists 
Regarded  the  close  union  and  the  mutual  control 
of  the  crown  and  parliament  as  the  right  of  the 
country,  and  as  necessary  to  its  interests. 

In  the  second  place,  the  House  of  Commons  was 
in  effect  the  preponderant  branch  of  the  parliament. 
Its  direct  or  formal  sovereignty  was  a  revolution- 
ary principle  which  was  now  generally  decried  and 
execrated ;  and  the  Crown  and  the  House  of  Lords 
had  recovered  their  rights  and  their  dignity.  But 
their  overthrow  had  been  so  violent  and  complete, 
that,  even  after  the  fall  of  their  enemies,  they  were 
unable  to  re-establish  themselves  in  their  ancient 
ascendancy ;  and  neither  the  faults  nor  the  reverses 
of  the  House  of  Commons  could  obliterate  the  effect 
of  its  terrible  victories.  The  royalist  party  were  now 
masters  in  that  assembly,  and,  in  its  relations  to  the 
crown  and  the  administration  of  the  country,  inhe- 
rited the  conquests  of  the  Long  Parliament.  The 
confusion  was  inevitably  long  and  often  violent 
before  the  different  parties  (Tory  or  Whig,  govern- 


86 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


ment  or  opposition)  learned  to  use  these  conquests 
with  sense  and  moderation;  to  understand  their 
import  and  their  limits;  and  to  maintain  that 
elaborate  harmony  among  the  great  powers  of  the 
state  which  is  at  once  the  merit  and  the  difficulty 
of  constitutional  government.  But  through  all  the 
experiments  of  this  apprenticeship,  and  in  spite  of 
some  appearances  of  an  opposite  tendency,  the  pre- 
ponderant influence  of  the  House  of  Commons  over 
the  afiairs  of  the  country  was,  from  the  reign  of 
Charles  II.,  daily  more  obvious  and  decisive. 

These  two  political  facts  were  accompanied  by 
one  of  still  higher  importance,  relating  to  the  re- 
ligious condition  of  the  country :  the  complete  and 
definitive  ascendancy  of  Protestantism  in  England 
was  the  other  great  result  of  the  Revolution. 
Never,  certainly,  had  a  fiercer  disunion  prevailed 
among  the  English  Protestants;  and  Bossuet  might 
well  exult  in  the  contemplation  of  their  divisions 
and  quarrels.  But  a  common  faith  and  a  common 
passion  pervaded  all  these  divergent  sects :  in  the 
midst  of  their  own  combats,  they  joined  with  equal 
ardour  in  the  common  war  against  Catholicism ; 
and  liberty  of  conscience,  though  incessantly  vio- 
lated and  oppressed  by  them  and  among  them,  was, 
as  against  the  Church  of  Rome,  equally  dear  to 
each  and  the  inalienable  acquisition  of  all. 

These  were,  indeed,  the  only  objects  which  the 
great  body  of  the   English  people   had  really  at 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


87 


heart,  or  earnestly  demanded  of  that  ancient  mo- 
narchy whose  return  they  hailed  with  transport; 
they  were  resolved  to  overlook  or  to  endure  the 
faults  of  a  government  which,  whilst  securing  to 
them  these  three  great  and  indispensable  results  of 
the  revolution  they  had  just  passed  through,  pre- 
served them  from  fresh  convulsions.  But  this  was 
precisely  what  neither  Charles  II.  nor  James  II. 
was  able  or  willing  to  accomplish. 

In  regard  to  politics,  Charles  II.  had  too  much 
good  sense  and  too  much  indifference  to  use  any 
earnest  endeavours  to  obtain  absolute  power.  He 
cared  for  nothing  but  his  pleasure,  loved  power 
only  as  a  means  of  enjoyment,  and  willingly 
consented  to  concessions  and  compromises  in  order 
to  ward  off  the  risk  of  extreme  struggles,  or  spare 
himself  the  annoyance  of  them.  But  in  his 
inmost  heart  absolute  monarchy  was  the  only 
form  of  government  which  suited  his  taste  or  com- 
manded his  respect.  He  had  not  only  witnessed 
the  defects  and  excesses  incident  to  the  institu- 
tions of  his  own  country,  but  had  suffered  under 
them.  On  the  other  hand,  he  had  been  a  near 
spectator  of  the  splendid  court  and  the  strong  go- 
vernment of  Louis  XIV.,  and  these  were  the  objects 
of  his  admiration  and  his  confidence.  Hence  arose 
the  facility  with  which  he  fell  into  a  venal  depend- 
ence on  the  French  monarch.  He  regarded  him 
as  the  head  of  the  great  family  of  kings,  and  he  did 


/ 


88 


DISCOUKSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


89 


not  feel  all  the  shame  by  which  he  ought  to  have 
been  overwhehiied,  when  he  sold  him  the  policy 
and  the  liberties  of  his  country. 

In  religion,  Charles  was  at  once  sceptical  and 
catliolic ;  believing  in  nothing,  and  as  corrupt  in 
mind  as  in  manners.  But  he  thought  that  if,  after 
all,  there  were  any  truth  in  religion,  it  was  in  that 
form  of  it  taught  by  the  Catholic  Church,  which 
afforded  the  surest  refuge  for  kings  against  the 
perils  of  power,  and,  for  the  mass  of  mankind, 
against  those  of  eternity. 

Thus,  though  his  conduct  was  not  that  of  an 
absolute  and  catholic  king,  Charles  was  in  his  heart 
an  absolutist  and  a  catholic ;  his  sympathies  were 
with  the  sovereigns  of  the  continent,  and  not  with 
the  faith  and  the  policy  of  his  own  nation. 

James  II.  was  a  catholic  and  an  absolutist  at 
heart,  and  his  conduct  was  consistent  with  his  con- 
viction. He  was  also  blindly  enterprising,  and 
persisted  in  his  enterprises  with  all  the  obstinacy 
of  a  narrow  and  sterile  mind,  and  the  hardness  of 
a  cold  and  arid  heart. 

Such  were  the  two  princes  whom  the  Restora- 
tion placed  successively  on  the  throne  of  England, 
in  the  midst  of  a  nation  which,  though  returning 
with  joy  to  the  ancient  form  of  government  and 
execrating  the  revolution,  instinctively  determined 
to  hold  fast  by  the  important  results  it  had  gained. 

The  history  of  England,  during  the  whole  course 


1/ 


( 


of  the  Restoration,  is  nothing  else  than  the  history 
of  the  profound  discord  which,  though  slowly 
revealed,  broke  forth  at  length  between  these  two 
kings  and  their  subjects;  and  of  the  persevering  efforts 
of  the  English  people  to  escape  from  the  second 
revolution  to  which  that  discord  naturally  tended. 

For  England  was  during  that  period  essentially 
conservative.  She  was  agitated  by  the  intrigues, 
the  plots,  and  the  insurrections  excited  by  the  vio- 
lence of  faction  or  the  selfishness  of  ambition,  and 
was  more  than  once  hurried  away  by  the  efforts  of 
malcontents  or  the  passions  of  the  people  into  dis- 
turbances which  seemed  to  threaten  revolution. 
But  far  from  seconding  the  men  who  sought  to 
overthrow  the  monarchy  of  the  Stuarts,  she  stopped 
and  recoiled  as  soon  as  she  saw  that  she  was  tend- 
ing to  that  point.  During  the  reign  of  Charles  II. 
conspirators  and  insurgents  were  small  fractions  of 
the  nation,  and  were  disowned  and  deserted  by 
it  even  when  it  seemed  to  favour  them.  As  the 
faults  of  the  restored  monarch  became  more  fre- 
quent and  unpardonable,  and  his  tendencies  and 
designs  more  evident,  the  public  discontent  grew 
stronger,  and  the  chances  of  a  rupture  between 
the  sovereign  and  the  country  more  imminent. 
But  the  country,  far  from  availing  itself  eagerly 
of  these  chances,  strove  to  evade  them.  To 
maintain  the  House  of  Stuart  on  the  throne 
without  surrendering  its  laws  or  its  faith,  the  Eiig- 


<\ 


■     * 


90 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


91 


Hsh  nation  made  every  sacrifice  and  every  effort 
that  the  most  patient  and  persevering  conservatism 
could  require. 

All  the  phases  through  which  the  English  Go- 
vernment passed  during  that  period,  with  the  con- 
duct and  destiny  of  all  the  parties  and  ministries 
who  then  wielded  power,  were  but  different  forms 
and  striking  proofs  of  this  great  truth. 

It  was  natural  that  the  ancient  royalist  party,  the 
faithful  adherents  and  counsellors  of  Charles  I.  in 
misfortune,  and  of  Charles  II.  in  exile,  should  be  the 
first  possessors  of  power.  Their  leader  was  Claren- 
don, a  man  of  firm,  upright,  and  penetrating  mind  ; 
a  sincere  friend  of  legal  and  moral  order ;  a  cou- 
rageous defender  of  the  constitution  of  his  country, 
and  a  devoted  adherent  of  her  church;  full  of 
respect  for  her  rights,  whether  written  or  traditional, 
popular  or  monarchical.  But  he  carried  his  hatred 
of  the  revolution  to  such  a  pitch,  that  he  regarded 
everything  new  with  suspicion  and  antipathy.  As 
prime  minister,  he  was  haughty  rather  than  high- 
minded  ;  he  was  deficient  in  largeness  of  thought 
and  in  warmth  and  generosity  of  heart;  he  was  osten- 
tatious in  the  display  of  his  greatness,  and  pedanti- 
cally rigid  in  the  use  of  his  power.  Towards  the 
king,  who  regarded  him  with  great  confidence,  and 
with  an  esteem  mingled  with  some  degree  of  attach- 
ment, he  was  by  turns  austere  and  humble ;  passing 
from   remonstrance   to  complaisance,  speaking  the 


t, 


\ 


truth  with  the  courage  and  firmness  of  an  honest 
man,  but  alarmed  at  having  spoken  it,  and  seeking 
support  against  the  court,  yet  not  choosing  to  receive 
it  from  the  Parliament.  He  tried  to  compel  the 
Crown  to  respect  the  ancient  laws  of  the  country, 
and  to  keep  the  Commons  within  the  humble  limits 
which  the  older  constitution  had  assigned  to  them  ; 
and  he  flattered  himself  that  the  royal  prerogative 
might  be  restrained  within  the  bounds  of  legality, 
without  rendermg  it  responsible  to  Parliament. 
He  failed  in  this  <;;himerical  attempt  to  found  a  go- 
vernment neither  arbitrary  nor  limited  in  a  country 
just  emerging  from  a  popular  revolution  ;  and  he 
fell,  after  seven  years  of  ascendancy,  hated  by  the 
Commons  for  his  monarchical  arrogance,  by  the 
dissenters  for  his  high  church  intolerance,  and  by 
the  court  for  his  contemptuous  austerity.  He  was 
pursued  by  the  blind  anger  of  the  people,  who  re- 
proached him  with  every  public  evil,  as  well  as  with 
every  abuse  of  power;  and  was  shamefully  abandoned 
by  the  king,  who  now  regarded  him  only  as  an 
inconvenient  censor,  and  a  minister  dangerous  to 
his  own  popularity. 

Clarendon's  fall  has  been  attributed  to  the  defects 
of  his  character,  and  to  some  mistakes  or  failures  in 
his  policy  abroad  and  at  home.  Those  who  judge 
thus  underrate  the  magnitude  of  the  causes  which 
determine  the  fate  of  eminent  statesmen.  Pro- 
vidence, which  imposes  so  rude  a  task  upon  them^ 


92 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


93 


does  not  regard  a  few  weaknesses,  failures,  or  errors 
with  such  inexorable  rigour  as  to  visit  them  with 
a  total  overthrow.     Other  great  ministers,  such  as 
Richelieu,  Mazarin,  or  Walpole,  had  as  great  defects 
as  Clarendon,  and  committed  faults  at  least  as  serious 
as  his.     But  they  understood  the  times  in  which 
they  lived  ;  the  views  and  objects  of  their  policy 
were  in  harmony  with  the  wants,   the  condition, 
and   the    general    tendency   of   the    public   mind. 
Clarendon,  on  the  contrary,  mistook  the  character 
of  his  age ;    he  misconstrued  the    import    of   tlie 
great   events   which   he    had   witnessed.     He  con- 
sidered what  had  passed  from  1640  to   1660  as  a 
revolt,  the  suppression  of  which  had  left  the  govern- 
ment  nothing  to  do  but  to  re-establish  law  and 
order ;  he  did  not  perceive  that  it  was  a  revolution 
which  had  not  only  hurried  the  English  people  into 
fatal    disorders,   but  had    stamped  a  new  political 
character  on  the  country  and  imposed  new  rules  of 
conduct  on  the  restored  monarchy.     Amongst  the 
great  results  which  this  revolution  had  bequeathed 
to   England,  Clarendon  accepted  with  sincerity  the 
indispensable    concurrence    of   Parliament   in   the 
government    of  the  country,   and    with  joy,    the 
triumph  of  Protestantism.    But  he  obstinately  re- 
jected and   opposed  the  growing  influence  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  could  not  employ  or  even 
understand  the  means  by  which  it  might  be  made 
to    ensure    the    safety,  and    add  to   the   strength, 


r 


of  the  monarchy.  This  was  one  of  those  radical 
mistakes  for  which  the  rarest  talents  or  even  virtues 
cannot  atone,  and  which  render  faults  or  reverses, 
otherwise  unimportant,  fatal  to  public  men. 

The  honest  counsellors  of  the  late  king  were 
succeeded  by  the  profligates  of  the  new  court.  At 
their  head  were  Buckingham  and  Shaftesbury ; 
the  one  licentious,  witty,  light,  and  presumptuous, 
the  other  ambitious,  crafty,  and  bold ;  both  equallj^ 
corrupt,  and  equally  versed  in  the  arts  of  corruption  ; 
both  ready  to  go  over  from  the  court  to  the  populace, 
or  from  the  government  to  a  faction,  whenever  the 
apostacy  would  advance  their  fortune  or  gratify  their 
vanity.  They  undertook  to  satisfy  the  Parliament, 
the  dissenters,  and  all  the  popular  feelings  which  the 
rigid  and  isolated  policy  of  Clarendon  had  irritated. 
But  the  art  of  governing  does  not  consist  solely  in 
anxiety  to  please  or  readiness  to  yield.  The  rash  and 
immoral  successors  of  Clarendon  did  not  suspect  the 
embarrassments  and  perils  which  they  were  about 
to  bring  upon  the  government  and  on  themselves, 
by  leaning  on  the  House  of  Commons  for  their  chief 
support.  A  popular  assembly  can  only  become 
the  habitual  instrument  of  a  strong  and  regular 
government  when  it  is  itself  strongly  and  regularly 
organized  and  governed ;  and  this  can  only  be  the 
case  when  it  is  divided  into  great  parties,  united  by 
common  interests  and  principles,  and  proceeding  in 
a  consistent  and  disciplined  manner,  under  acknow- 


/ 


94 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


95 


ledsred  leaders,  towards  determinate  ends.  Now, 
such  parties  can  only  be  formed  and  held  together 
among  men  united  by  firm  and  enduring  convictions. 
Faith  in  principles  and  fidelity  to  persons  are  the 
indispensable  virtues  and  the  vital  conditions  of  great 
political  parties;  as  great  political  parties  are,  in  their 
turn,  a  condition  of  free  government.  Nothing  of  the 
kind  existed,  or  was  in  process  of  formation,  under 
Charles  II.,  when  the  ministry,  called  the  Cabal, 
attempted  to  govern  in  concert  with  the  House  of 
Commons  and  in  obedience  to  its  wishes.  After  so 
many  convulsions  and  delusions,  men  (especially 
those  in  the  regions  nearest  to  power)  were  a  prey 
to  doubt  and  distrust,  to  a  constant  restlessness,  and 
to  a  selfishness  at  one  time  impudently  rapacious, 
at  another,  prudent  even  to  pusillanimity.  The 
House  of  Commons'  was  filled  with  the  wrecks 
of  revolutionary  parties,  but  there  were  no  political 
parties  able  or  worthy  to  sustain  a  government. 
Men  like  Buckingham  and  Shaftesbury  were 
equally  unable  and  unworthy  to  form  such  parties : 
they  knew  only  how  to  gain  over  partisans  for 
themselves  from  every  camp  and  by  every  means. 
Their  policy  was  shamelessly  inconsistent  and  con- 
tradictory. They  formed  an  intimate  union  be- 
tween England  and  Holland,  or  abandoned  Hol- 
land to  Louis  XIV.,  according  as  they  happened 
to  need  the  favour  of  the  zealous  English  protestants 
or  of  the  most  powerful  of  foreign  princes.     They 


\' 


\ 


I 


granted  toleration  to  dissenters  from  an  apparent 
respect  for  the  rights  of  conscience,  but,  in  reality, 
from  complaisance  to  the  king,  who  wished  to  pro- 
tect the  catholics;  then,  under  the  pressure  of  the 
irritated  House  of  Commons,  they  solicited  the  king 
to  sanction  the  most  rigorous  measures  against  both 
catholics  and  dissenters.  Their  policy,  whether 
domestic  or  foreign,  was  a  series  of  tentatives  and 
contradictions ;  their  most  equitable  measures  were 
only  means  of  corruption  and  deception,  insolently 
adopted  and  abandoned  by  turns,  and  as  devoid  of 
consistency  as  of  truth. 

The  public,  whether  in  or  out  of  parliament,  was 
sometimes  the  dupe  of  these  stratagems.  Nothing 
can  equal  the  eagerness  with  which  the  many 
believe  whatever  flatters  their  passions,  and  the 
readiness  with  which  they  excuse  every  vice  in  the 
men  who  subserve  them.  The  profligates  of  the 
Cabal  sometimes  enjoyed  a  momentary  favour;  but 
it  was  withdrawn  almost  as  soon  as  given.  Their 
licentious  lives,  the  audacious  immorality  of  their 
maxims,  the  versatility  of  their  conduct,  and  the 
hollowness  of  their  promises,  shocked  the  conscience 
of  the  country,  which,  in  the  midst  of  all  its  errors, 
had  still  a  solid  groundwork  of  piety  and  virtue. 
It  would  most  assuredly  not  have  stopped  short  at 
indignation,  had  it  known  that  its  King,  with  the 
connivance  of  his  principal  counsellors,  had  con- 
cluded secret  treaties  with  Louis  XIV.,  by  which  he 


96 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


i\ 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


97 


engaged  to  declare  himself  catholic  as  soon  as  he 
could  do  so  with  any  degree  of  safety  ;  and  had 
sold,  meanwhile,  for  a  few  millions,  the  political 
independence  and  the  free  institutions  of  his  coun- 
try. England  long  remained  ignorant  of  these 
shameful  acts ;  but  where  a  profound  distrust  pre- 
vails, the  people,  however  ignorant,  sometimes  catch 
strange  glimpses  of  truth  from  their  presentiments. 
Though  not  aware  of  the  degree  to  which  the  King's 
ministers  had  betrayed  and  degraded  their  country, 
the  House  of  Commons  not  only  withheld  its  confi- 
dence from  them,  but  at  length  violently  attacked 
them  ;  and  they  fell  under  the  blows  of  a  power, 
which,  by  using  it  as  their  instrument,  they  had 
themselves  augmented,  and  without  having  made 
the  smallest  progress  in  organizing  political  parties 
in  the  parliament,  or  in  regulating  its  action  on 
the  government. 

Their  successor  Sir  Thomas  Osborne,  afterwards 
Earl  of  Danby,  had  much  more  political  wisdom, 
and  exercised  a  greater  influence  on  the  develop- 
ment of  the  parliamentary  system  in  England. 
Though  he  came  into  public  life  under  the  auspices 
of  the  Cabal,  and  early  took  part  in  some  of  their 
bad  practices,  he  differed  from  them  on  one  essen- 
tial point — he  belonged  to  the  country  and  not  to 
the  court.  As  he  was  himself  a  Yorkshire  gentle- 
man, the  country  gentlemen  of  England  constituted 
his  party,  and  the   House  of  Commons   was   his 


political  sphere.  Being  an  ardent  supporter  of 
the  cause  and  prerogative  of  the  Crown,  but  en- 
tirely opposed  to  its  severance  from  the  Parliament, 
his  great  object  was  to  form  a  permanent  and 
compact  party  in  the  House  of  Commons.  In 
furtherance  of  this  he  resorted  to  every  variety  of 
means ;  gaining  over  the  minds  of  some  by  argu- 
ments, and  the  votes  of  others  by  money.  He 
endeavoured  to  establish  that  intimate  commu- 
nity of  interests  between  the  administration  and  its 
adherents,  which,  by  uniting  all  the  various  ele- 
ments of  a  party  in  one  set  of  opinions  and  one 
line  of  policy,  gives  a  strength  and  efficacy  to 
government  which  nothing  else  can  confer. 

Danby  understood  and  shared  the  national  feel- 
ing of  England,  both  as  to  religion  and  foreign 
policy.  He  was  anxious  for  the  security  of  Protest- 
antism and  the  eood  understanding;  of  the  Enojlish 
government  with  the  states  devoted  to  that  cause. 
He  persuaded  Charles  II.  to  conclude  a  peace,  and 
afterwards  an  alliance,  with  Holland,  and  to  give 
his  niece  Mary  in  marriage  to  Prince  William  of 
Orange.  While  thus  securing  abroad  a  saviour 
of  the  faith  and  the  liberties  of  his  country,  he 
laid  at  home  the  foundations  of  that  great  party 
attached  to  the  Crown  and  the  Church  which 
has  ever  since  given  such  strength  to  the  English 
monarchy  and  so  powerfully  conduced  to  its  sta- 
bility. 

H 


/ 


98 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


99 


Whilst  the  Tory  party  owed  its  organization  to 
Danby's  good  sense  and  ability,  his  faults,  by  a  for- 
tunate coincidence  of  opposite  results,  occasioned 
the  vigorous  and  salutary  development  of  Whig 
principles.  It  is  the  glory  of  this  party  to  have  owed 
its  origin  and  the  first  display  of  its  greatness  to  its 
defence  of  the  political  liberty  and  morality  of  the 
country.  It  rose  into  being  under  the  auspices  of 
generous  sentiments  and  noble  principles;  and 
it  began  to  assume  its  peculiar  physiognomy  and 
its  imposing  character,  in  its  struggles  with  Danby 
and  his  army  of  Cavaliers,  transformed  into  Tories. 
These  struggles  were  still  confused  and  disorderly  ; 
but  it  was  easy  to  distinguish  in  them  two  great 
parliamentary  parties,  aspiring  to  govern  the  country 
upon  political  principles  which,  though  not  radi- 
cally opposed,  were  marked  by  real  and  important 

differences. 

The  conflict,  which  lasted  some  years,  ended  in 
the  fall  of  Danby  and  the  dissolution  of  the  Long 
Royalist  Parliament,  which  for  eighteen  years  had 
upheld  the  royal  cause  with  a  singular  mixture  of 
devotedness,  servility  and  indej^endence.  It  was  suc- 
ceeded by  a  Whig  ministry,  composed  of  the  leaders 
of  that  party.  Temple,  Russell,  Essex,  Hollis,  Caven- 
dish, and  Powlet ;  and  with  the  aid  of  a  few  moderate 
waverers,  such  as  Halifax  and  Sunderland,  and  of 
Shaftesbury,  the  daring  renegade  from  the  court 
(but  now  the  favourite  of  the  people),  this  ministry 


\ 


If 


/ 


undertook  the  task  of  reforming  and  conducting  the 
government. 

It  was  a  momentous  crisis.  For  the  first  time, 
a  parliamentary  opposition,  in  spite  of  the  resistance 
of  the  crown,  was  raised  to  power  by  public  opinion 
and  by  the  majority  in  the  House  of  Commons. 
Would  they  be  able  to  retain  it  ?  Would  they  be 
able  to  satisfy  the  real  wishes  of  the  country,  with- 
out shaking  the  foundations  of  the  monarchy, 
alarmed  at  their  accession  to  power  ? 

The  Whigs  did  not  succeed  in  solving  this  pro- 
blem. 

From  want  of  experience,  or  from  the  influence  of 
the  false  political  theories  which  they  had  inherited 
from  the  revolutionary  Long  Parliament,  their  no- 
tions of  their  own  organization  and  the  conditions  of 
constitutional  government  were  confused,  unprac- 
tical, wavering,  and  contradictory.  Their  prejudices 
were  at  once  monarchical  and  republican.  They 
tried  to  constitute  the  cabinet  on  a  wide  basis,  and 
to  render  it  a  sort  of  intermediate  body  capable  of 
checking  the  crown  by  means  of  the  parliament, 
and  the  parliament  by  means  of  the  crown  : — a  pro- 
ject so  ill  conceived  that  its  immediate  failure  was 
inevitable.  They  carried  the  spirit  of  opposition 
into  the  exercise  of  power;  and  while  servants  of 
the  throne,  they  were  more  anxious  to  restrain 
than  to  support  its  authority. 

.  They  lived  amongst  the  remnants  of  the  anarchi- 

II  2 


■  "^p^wysfp^ 


100 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


101 


cal  factions  which  had  survived  the  revolution, 
and  incessantly  kept  up  a  covert  war  against  the 
monarchy.  Revolutionary  habits  and  passions  had 
not  totally  disappeared  with  the  republic.  The 
republican  party,  though  nearly  annihilated  in  the 
higher  classes,  and  too  weak,  even  in  the  lower,  to 
have  any  chance  of  success,  still  possessed  unwearied 
agitators  and  implacable  conspirators,  ready  to  put 
their  skill  and  their  lives  at  the  service  of  any  one 
who  would  afford  them  a  hope  of  gratifying  their 
turbulent  and  vindictive  passions.  The  Whigs,  if 
they  did  not  connive  at  these  men,  were  in  constant 
contact  with  them,  and  hoped  to  secure  their 
services  as  partizans;  but  these  professional  revo- 
lutionists flattered  themselves,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  thev  should  be  able  to  convert  their  leaders 
into  instruments.  They  continually  compromised 
the  ministers  both  with  the  king  and  the  country, 
which  was  loyal  in  spite  of  its  discontent,  and 
decidedly  averse  to  new  revolutions. 

To  set  against  these  faults  in  their  conduct  or 
these  difiiculties  of  their  situation,  the  Whigs  had 
one  resource  of  which  they  made  an  ample  and 
deplorable  use — concessions  to  the  passions  of  the 
multitude.  England  was  at  that  time  possessed 
by  a  general  and  ungovernable  terror  and  hatred 
of  popery.  Suspecting  on  good  ground  that  they 
were  betrayed  on  this  point  by  their  king,  the 
English  people    were  hurried    beyond   all  bounds 


\ 


of  reason,  justice,  or  humanity.  The  political  and 
judicial  persecution  of  the  Catholics  was,  during 
three  years,  the  joint  crime  of  a  people  furious  in 
their  faith,  and  a  king  cowardly  in  his  infidelity. 
The  Whigs  as  well  as  the  Tories  shared  in  this 
frenzy  or  yielded  to  it.  It  was  moreover  their  ill 
luck  to  attain  to  power  just  as  the  first  access  of 
national  fury  against  the  Catholics  began  to  sub- 
side, and  to  give  place  to  some  reaction  in  favour  of 
justice  and  good  sense.  This  reaction  was  therefore 
more  injurious  to  them  than  to  their  rivals;  and 
they  had  to  sustain  all  the  weight  of  the  concealed 
anger  of  the  king,  who  delighted  to  revenge  him- 
self on  them  for  the  iniquities  which  he  had  not  had 
the  courage  to  prevent. 

Nor  was  their  situation  as  to  the  foreign  affairs  of 
the  country  less  complicated  and  insecure.  Whilst 
they  protested  against  the  king's  servile  intimacy 
with  the  court  of  France,  several  of  their  leaders 
received  favours  or  pensions  from  Louis  XIV.  Some 
accepted  them  from  corruption  (for  there  were  profli- 
gates in  the  popular  party  as  well  as  in  that  of  the 
court)  ;  others,  though  men  of  the  highest  patriotism 
and  honour,  from  the  chimerical  hope  of  employing 
the  means  of  influence  which  they  received  from  a 
foreign  sovereign  in  securing  the  liberties  of  their 
own  country.  To  seek  abroad  means  of  secretly  act- 
ing on  the  internal  affairs  of  a  country,  is  a  danger- 
ous experiment ;  the  ablest  politicians  run  a  great 


102 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


103 


risk  of  serving  the  designs  of  the  foreigner  rather 
than  their  own.  The  advantages  which  Louis  XIV. 
derived  from  his  connexion  with  certain  Whig 
leaders  were  much  greater  than  those  which 
accrued  to  them  from  the  secret  support  they 
received  from  him  in  effecting  the  overthrow  of 
Danby  and  the  dissolution  of  the  Cavalier  Long 
Parliament. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  these  complicated  em- 
barrassments and  perils  that  the  Whigs  conceived 
the  design  of  changing  the  order  of  succession  to  the 
throne,  and  of  setting  aside  the  lawful  heir  by  Act  of 
Parliament.  This  was  to  make  a  revolution  as  yet 
uncalled  for  by  any  existing  and  patent  necessity  ;  to 
anticipate  remote  contingencies,  and  to  act  upon  con- 
jectures, which,  however  well  founded,  were  uncer- 
tain. The  Whigs  doubtless  thought  that  in  such  a 
matter  it  was  wiser  to  prevent  than  to  wait ;  and 
that  it  was  better  to  accomplish  at  once  by  means  of 
lawful  deliberation,  what  must  be  effected  later  by 
force,  and  perhaps  at  the  cost  of  a  civil  war.  This 
was  a  very  superficial  view  of  the  subject,  and 
evinced  little  knowledge  of  human  nature  or  the 
great  conditions  of  social  order.  To  deliberate  on  a 
revolution  is  more  profoundly  mischievous  than  to 
take  a  part  in  it ;  and  the  political  structure  of  society 
is  more  shaken  by  attacks  on  its  fundamental  laws 
Jn  the  name  of  reason,  than  by  violations  of  them 
under  the  pressure  of  necessity. 


IM 


The  Whigs  required  parliament  to  abolish,  at 
its  mere  pleasure,  and  before  James  II.  had  begun  to 
reign,  the  hereditary  right  of  that  prince  to  the 
crown ;  that  is  to  say,  they  required  it  to  alter  the 
foundations  of  the  monarchy,  and  to  substitute  its  own 
will  for  a  principle  established  by  the  constitution. 
The  political  tact  of  the  nation  warned  it  that 
this  would  be  to  destroy  the  monarchy ;  the  mo- 
narchical spirit  rapidly  revived,  and  divisions  broke 
out  in  the  cabinet  itself.  The  Whigs  lost  all  their 
allies  among  the  moderate  Tories,  and  found  them- 
selves reduced  to  the  mere  strength  of  their  own 
party.  They  were  also  met  by  an  obstacle  they 
had  little  foreseen — the  conscience  of  Charles  II. 
Selfish  as  he  was,  he  did  not  think  himself  justified 
in  disposing  of  his  brother's  rights,  and  he  defended 
them  at  all  risks.  To  the  honour  of  the  English 
nation,  popular  passions  yielded  to  the  respect  for 
Constituted  authorities  ;  the  Bill  of  Exclusion,  after 
passing  the  House  of  Commons,  was  thrown 
out  by  the  Lords,  and  no  attempt  was  made  to 
push  the  thing  further  or  to  accomplish  the  same 
end  by  other  means.  But  the  question,  though 
postponed,  was  far  from  being  set  at  rest.  The 
House  of  Commons  which  had  voted  the  exclusion 
of  James  II.  being  dissolved,  the  bill  was  proposed 
and  carried  anew  in  that  which  succeeded  it.  Of 
the  two  great  parties  which  had  gradually  arisen 
in   the  course    of  the   reign,  the  Whigs    were  re- 


\ 


104 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


105 


solved  to  get  rid  of  the  future  king,  and  the  Tories 
to  maintain  the  monarchy  intact.  Charles  II.  had 
also  formed  his  determination ;  he  dissolved  the 
House  of  Commons,  dismissed  the  Whigs,  made  up 
a  ministry  consisting  exclusively  of  Tories,  and  go- 
verned for  four  years  without  a  Parliament.  During 
these  four  gloomy  years,  England  constantly  heard 
the  approaching  tempest  muttering  around  her. 
The  Whigs,  once  more  in  opposition,  conspired  for 
different  objects  and  in  different  degrees.  Some  en- 
deavoured to  recover  power  by  legal  means;  others, to 
force  the  king,  even  by  insurrection  and  civil  war,  if 
needful,  to  yield  to  what  they  regarded  as  the  right 
and  the  will  of  the  nation.  Some  of  the  lower  and 
more  desperate  hangers-on  of  the  party  were  pre- 
pared to  get  rid  of  the  King  and  his  brother,  whom 
they  looked  upon  as  the  sole  obstacles  to  the  success 
of  their  cause,  by  assassination.  These  plots,  some- 
times exaggerated,  sometimes  misrepresented  by 
an  imperfect  publicity  or  by  judicial  trials  con- 
ducted with  subtle  wickedness,  threw  the  country 
into  troubles  and  distractions  of  opposite  kinds.  The 
conservative  party  was  indignant,  and  was  alarmed 
for  the  safety  of  the  throne  and  the  established  order 
of  ^things;  the  popular  party  was  more  and  more 
exasperated  at  finding  all  its  efforts  vain,  and  its 
noblest  leaders  led  to  the  scaffold.  The  destruc- 
tive hostility  to  the  monarchy  provoked  a  monar- 
chical  reaction  equally  intense.     The  charters  of 


the  principal  corporations,  the  last  rampart  of 
the  popular  party,  were  attacked  and  abolished  by 
form  of  law.  The  conspirators,  discouraged  by 
their  failures  and  alarmed  at  their  peril,  left  the 
country,  and  went  over  to  Holland  to  conjure  the 
Prince  of  Orange  to  save  the  Protestant  faith  and  the 
liberties  of  England.  The  two  great  political  results 
of  the  recent  revolution  to  which  England  clung  with 
tenacious  attachment,  namely,  the  influence  of  the 
parliament  on  the  King's  government,  and  the  pre- 
ponderance of  the  House  of  Commons  in  the  par- 
liament, were  not  only  suspended,  but  endangered. 
The  great  religious  result,  the  ascendancy  of  Pro- 
testantism, still  remained  intact ;  it  was  the  Church 
of  England  herself  who  invariably  supported  the 
crown  and  anathematized  every  attempt  at  resist- 
ance. The  high  Tories,  with  Rochester  at  their 
head,  daily  rallied  more  closely  round  James  ;  over- 
looking his  attachment  to  the  catholic  church  in 
their  regard  for  his  character  of  heir  lo  the  monarchy. 
But  there  was  a  third  party,  composed  of  moderate 
Tories  and  led  by  Halifax,  who  opposed  violent 
measures,  demanded  the  convocation  of  a  parliament, 
and  predicted  extreme  peril  in  the  event  of  the 
government  persisting  in  its  refusal.  Charles 
hesitated  and  procrastinated  :  promising  to  the  high 
Tories  an  unshaken  perseverance  in  maintaining 
his  brother's  rights ;  to  the  moderate  party,  respect 
for  the   constitution    of  the   country ;   and   to  the 


106 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


Church,  the  firm  maintenance  of  the  protestant 
establishment.  Perplexed  and  fatigued,  he  em- 
ployed all  the  address  and  prudence  of  which 
he  was  master,  in  eluding  the  necessity  of  choosing 
to  which  of  these  promises  to  adhere.  He  died 
before  events  compelled  him  to  decide ;  but,  having 
reached  the  term  of  his  worldly  career  and 
the  verge  of  eternity,  the  anxiety  of  the  dying 
man  overcame  the  precautions  of  the  king;  he 
rejected  all  the  offers  and  entreaties  of  the  Anglican 
bishops,  sent  for  a  Benedictine  monk  who  was  con- 
cealed in  his  palace,  and  died  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Catholic  Church — thus  in  his  last  tnoments  con- 
firming his  brother  in  a  faith,  without  the  consola- 
tions of  which  Charles  found  it  impossible  to  die. 

During  a  reign  of  four  years  zeal  for  this  faith 
had  exclusive  possession  of  James  the  Second's 
mind.  His  efforts  to  obtain  absolute  power  were 
not  the  result  of  a  stroilg  character  and  despotic 
temper,  nor  of  an  ardent  ambition ;  they  were 
dictated  by  a  dogged  and-  intractable  fanaticism. 
The  infallibility  and  superiority  to  all  control, 
which  are  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  con- 
stitution of  the  Church  of  Rome,  he  regarded 
as  maxims  of  government,  no  less  than  articles 
of  faith.  In  his  narrow  and  rigid  mind,  spiritual 
order  was  blindly  confounded  with  temporal ;  and 
he  thought  himself  entitled  to  exact  from  his  sub- 
jects that  absolute  submission  in  the  State  which 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


107 


he    deemed    it    his    own    duty   to  yield   in    the 

Church. 

From  his  infancy  he  had  suffered  oppression  for 
his  faith,  and  had  seen  those  who  shared  it  subjected 
to  cruel  persecutions.  On  his  accessio  i  to  the  throne, 
he  regarded  the  deliverance  of  the  Catholic  Church 
in  England  as  his  peculiar  duty  and  mission,  and 
he  was  incapable  of  understanding  any  other  way 
of  effecting  her  deliverance  than  by  restoring  her 

ascendancy. 

Such  is  the  lamentable  concatenation  of  human 
errors  and  crimes!  They  provoke  and  produce 
each  other  in  endless  series.  Instead  of  recognizing 
and  respecting  their  reciprocal  rights,  protestants 
and  catholics  could  only  alternately  persecute  and 
enslave  each  otlier. 

Either  in  the  sincere  hope  of  succeeding,  or  in 
the  desire  of  guarding  himself  from  all  future  re- 
proach, James  began  by  trying  to  govern  accord- 
ing to  the  constitution.  The  day  on  which  he 
ascended  the  throne,  he  promised  to  maintain  the 
established  laws  of  the  Church  as  well  as  of  the 
State  ;  and  this  promise  he  solemnly  repeated  to  the 
parliament  which  he  shortly  after  convoked. 

Some  important  though  isolated  acts,  however, 
soon  belied  these  professions.  He  continued  to  levy 
taxes  which  had  not  been  voted  by  Parliament; 
and  whilst  he  redoubled  his  severity  against  the 
ilissenters,  with  a  view  to  conciliate  the  Church  of 


108 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


England,  he  began  to  suspend  the  execution  of  the 
laws  against  the  catholics,  and  to  make  serious 
inroads  on  the  political  and  religious  constitution  of 
the  state. 

His  language  was  still  more  alarming  than  his 
acts.  While  professing  the  legality  of  his  intentions, 
he  continually  betrayed  a  sense  of  his  right  to  absolute 
power,  and  his  resolution  to  enforce  it  if  the  country 
did  not  gratefully  acknowledge  his  moderation. 

Kings  and  their  subjects  are  equally  fond  of 
displaying  to  each  other  the  sword  of  Damocles 
suspended  over  their  heads;  the  former,  in  the 
name  of  divine  right ;  the  latter,  in  that  of  the 
sovereignty  of  the  people.  The  menace  is  as  in- 
sane as  it  is  insolent,  since  it  inevitably  enfeebles 
the  powers  of  the  government,  or  endangers  the 
liberties  of  the  country.  The  true  wisdom  and 
policy  of  both  kings  and  their  subjects  are  the 
same ;  to  claim  nothing  beyond  their  lawful  rights, 
and  to  bury  in  silence  the  mysteries  and  the 
menaces  of  arbitrary  power  on  the  one  hand,  and 
of  revolution  on  the  other. 

James's  promises  and  first  acts  of  constitutional 
government  were  received  by  the  country  with 
favour  and  almost  with  enthusiasm.  The  more 
lively  are  men's  fears,  the  more  eager  are  their 
hopes.  The  Tories  had  a  decided  majority  in  the 
Parliament.  The  Church  of  England  strove  to 
hold  the  King  to  the  engagements  he  had  formed 


/ 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


109 


with  her,  by  increased  demonstrations  of  loyalty 
and  devotedness  to  his  person.  The  dissenters 
thought  they  had  some  chances  of  toleration  and 
liberty.  Good  dispositions  and  evil  ones,  motives 
honourable  and  shameful,  conspired  to  secure  to 
the  King  the  patient,  •  nay  almost  the  servile,  sub- 
inission  of  the  country.  At  court  and  in  the  par- 
liament, the  greater  number  of  the  leading  men 
were  so  sceptical  and  corrupt,  that  they  were  ready 
to  make  indefinite  sacrifices  of  their  opinions  and 
their  honour.  In  the  nation,  a  feeling  of  lassitude, 
which  was  still  profound,  concurred  with  the  mo- 
narchical spirit  and  religious  discipline  to  repress 
any  explosion  of  discontent  or  alarm.  James  was 
no  longer  young ;  his  two  daughters,  sole  heirs 
to  the  throne,  were  firmly  attached  to  the  pro- 
testant  faith ;  it  was  better  to  endure  for  a  time 
evils  and  perils,  the  term  of  which  was  certain,  than 
to  incur  the  risks  of  new  revolutions. 

The  more  violent  factions,  the  conspirators  by  pro- 
fession, the  men  of  desperate  ambition,  and  the  exiles 
who  had  taken  refuge  in  Holland,  did  not  show  the 
same  patience  and  resignation.  In  spite  of  the 
advice  of  the  Prince  of  Orange,  who  restrained 
while  he  protected  them,  they  attempted  two  simul- 
taneous insurrections ;  the  one  in  England,  under 
the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  the  other  in  Scotland, 
under  the  Duke  of  Argyle.  These  risings  produced 
a    great   agitation    in   the  nation ;    but  thougli   a 


110 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OP 


Strong  sympathy  with  the  insurgents  spread  rapidly 
amongst  the  lower  classes,  it  did  not  break  out  in  ac- 
tive demonstrations.     While  the  Tories  vigorously 
aided  the  King  to  suppress  the  rebellion,  the  Whigs 
gave  it  no  support.     Both  these  attempts  failed, 
and  both  their  leaders  expiated  them  on  the  scaffold. 
Though  their  fate  excited  the  public  commiseration, 
neither   their    personal   qualities    nor   their   views 
awakened  any  strong  national  sentiment.     But  an 
appearance   of  success  is  fatal   to   a   weak   prince 
engaged   in   a  struggle  with  his  people.     James, 
triumphant   over  his  enemies  and  obeyed  by  his 
subjects,  gave  himself  up  to  the  vices  of  his  nature. 
He  delighted  in  the  rigid  and  even  cruel  exercise  of 
his  power,  and  he  found  in  Jeffreys  an  undaunted 
and  shameless  minister  of  his  vengeance.    The  in- 
human proceedings  against  the  partisans  of  Argyle 
and  Monmouth,  though  clothed  with  the  forms  of 
justice,   evinced  an  equal  contempt   for  the  gua- 
rantees of  law  and  the  feelings  of  humanity ;  and 
they  excited  in  the  public,   whether  high  or  low, 
whether  favourable  or  hostile  to  the  insurrection, 
the  deepest  indignation  and  disgust.     James  now 
gave  a   free   course    to   his  designs.      He  assailed 
the   Church   of    England   in    its   vital   privileges, 
and  the  most  faithful  of  his  protestant  servants  in 
the  inmost  recesses  of  their  consciences.     The  uni- 
versities of  Oxford  and  Cambridge  received  orders 
to  place  Catholics  at  the  head  of  Protestant  esta- 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


Ill 


blishments.  The  king  declared  with  his  own  lips 
to  Rochester,  that  if  he  did  not  turn  catholic  he 
would  be  deprived  of  all  his  employments.  Mea- 
sures so  evidently  illegal  and  extreme  found  oppo- 
nents even  among  the  Catholics.  These  were  divided 
into  two  parties,  the  one  prudent,  the  other  violent, 
who  carried  on  a  constant  struggle  for  influence 
over  the  king.  The  former  pointed  out  to  him  the 
dangers  into  which  he  was  rushing,  the  latter,  the 
great  object  on  which  his  hopes  were  fixed;  thus 
restraining  or  stimulating  his  fanaticism  by  turns, 
^othing,  therefore,  was  wanting  that  could  en- 
lighten or  guide  James ;  neither  the  loyalty  and  the 
long  patience  of  the  Protestants,  nor  the  moderar 
tion  and  the  wise  counsels  of  the  more  moderate 
Catholics.  But  his  blind  and  sincere  obstinacy  was 
proof  against  all  representations.  He  officially 
raised  Father  Petre,  a  Jesuit,  to  a  place  in  his  Privy 
Council;  and  he  ordered  the  clergy  of  the  Esta- 
blished Church  to  read  from  every  pulpit  in  the 
kingdom,  the  declaration  by  which  he  abolished,  in 
virtue  of  his  sole  power,  the  acts  of  Parliament 
£igainst  Dissenters  and  Catholics.  The  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury  and  six  bishops  having  refused  to 
execute  this  order,  and  having  presented  a  remon- 
strance to  the  king,  he  caused  them  to  be  arrested, 
taken  to  the  Tower,  and  tried  before  the  Court  of 
King's  Bench  as  authors  of  a  seditious  libel. 

Just  at  this  time,  a  son,  whose  birth,  being  con- 


112 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


.113 


trary  to  the  expectations  of  all  England,  was  re- 
garded with  groundless  but  natural  suspicion,  was 
born  to  James.  The  dominant  faction  loudly  pro- 
claimed their  joy  at  this  event ;  and  betrayed  their 
hope  of  training  tlie  son  in  their  own  principles,  and 
of  governing  him  as  they  had  governed  his  father. 
There  was  now  no  apparent  end  of  the  despotism 
which  had  hitherto  been  tolerated  in  consideration 
of  its  short  duration. 

Still   there  was   no    violent  outbreak,    and    the 
country  remained  motionless ;   but  its  leading  men 
changed  their  resolutions.   The  Church  of  England, 
goaded  to  extremity,  entered  on  a  system  of  positive 
resistance ;  the  political  parties,  Whigs  and  Tories, 
concurred  in  a  more  decisive  step.     The  Whigs  had 
been  taught  by  experience  that  they  alone  could 
neither  rally  the  nation  nor  establish  a  government. 
Their  conspiracies  had  been  as  unsuccessful  as  their 
cabinets.     They  had  now  the  rare  wisdom  to  per- 
ceive that  they  were  of  themselves  insufficient  to 
accomplish  their  own  designs,  and  that  an  intimate 
union  with  their  former  adversaries  was  the  only 
means  of  securing  their  success.     The  Tories,  on  the 
other  hand,  saw  that  every  principle  has  its  limits, 
every   engagement  and  every  duty  its  conditions. 
For   forty   years    they   had    upheld    the   maxims 
of    non-resistance    to    the   Crown,    an3    observed 
a  punctilious  fidelity   to   their    kings.     Placed    in 
new  circumstances,   and  subjected  to   a  new  trial, 


they  felt  that  their  country  too  had  a  claim  on 
their  fidelity;  and  that  they  were  not  bound  by 
consistency  to  make  a  servile  surrender  of  their 
liberties  and  faith  to  a  prince  inaccessible  to 
reason.  The  most  eminent  men  of  both  parties, 
Flussell,  Sidney,  and  Cavendish  for  the  Whigs, 
Danby,  Shrewsbury,  and  Lumley  for  the  Tories, 
laid  aside  their  divisions  and  determined  to  act  in 
concert  Halifax,  l;he  leader  of  the  intermediate 
party,  when  sounded  by  them,  declined  all  active 
participation  in  their  design,  but  did  not  dissuade 
them  from  it. 

On  the  30th  June,  1688,  at  the  veiy  moment 
when  the  solemn  acquittal  of  the  Seven  Bishops 
filled  London  with  enthusiastic  acclamations.  Ad- 
miral  Herbert,  disguised  as  a  common  sailor,  set 
out  for  Holland,  bearing  to  the  Prince  of  Orange  a 
formal  invitation  to  come  to  the  succour  of  the  faith 
and  laws  of  England,  and  a  solemn  engagement 
to  support  him  at  all  risks  and  by  every  means  in 
their  power.  These  documents  were  signed  by  the 
six  leaders  of  the  two  great  political  parties,  and 
by  Compton,  Bishop  of  London. 

William  only  awaited  this  step.  "  Now  or  never," 
said  he  to  his  confidant,  Dykevelt,  when  he  heard 
of  the  trial  of  the  Seven  Bishops,  and  of  their 
inflexible  resistance.  As  soon  as  he  received  the 
message,  he  announced  his  intention  with  a  bold 
and  dexterous  mixture  of  frankness  and  reserve,  and 

I 


M 

t 


114 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


115 


publicly  prepared  to  execute  it.  He  did  not  go,  he 
said^  to  conquer  a  kingdom,  or  to  usurp  a  throne ; 
he  went  at  the  request  of  the  English  people 
themselves,  to  interpose  between  their  king  and  his 
subjects,  and  to  protect  the  laws  of  England  and 
the  Protestant  religion  from  the  dangers  that  threat- 
ened them.  He  discussed  the  expediency  of  the 
undertaking  with  the  States  General  of  Holland, 
and  asked  their  opinion  and  assistance.  He  in- 
formed not  only  tlie  Protestant  princes,  who  sym- 
patliized  with  him  as  the  champion  of  their 
common  faith,  but  the  Emperor  of  Germany  and 
the  King  of  Spain,  who  regarded  him  as  tlie  de- 
fender of  the  European  balance  of  power.  Never 
was  enter|)rise  of  the  kind  thus  avowed,  debated, 
explained,  and  justified  beforehand.  The  whole  of 
Europe  knew  it,  and  understood  what  was  impend- 
ing. Personal  ambition  and  treasonable  conspiracy 
disappeared  in  the  political  greatness  of  the  cause 
and  the  event.  Less  than  four  months  after  the 
arrival  of  the  joint  message  from,  the  Whigs  and 
Tories,  William  embarked  for  England  at  the  head 
of  a  squadron  and  an  army :  bearing  with  him 
the  secret  good  wishes  of  most  of  the  sovereigns 
of  Europe,  Protestant  or  Catholic,  and  even  of 
Pope  Innocent  XL,  who  had  conceived  a  lively 
resentment  at  the  haughty  demeanour  of  Louis 
XIV.,  and  a  profound  contempt  for  the  insane 
temerity  of  James  11. 


James   alone    neither    understood    nor  believed 
what  was  passing.     In  vain  did  he  receive  from 
Louis  XIV.  accurate  intelligence,  and  the  offer  of 
efficient  help;    in  vain  did  his  own  agents  at  the 
Hague   and    at    Paris    send  him    accounts   of   the 
preparations   and  the   progress   of  the   enterprise. 
He  rejected  all  proposals,  and  shut  his  eyes  to  all 
information.     He  had  still  so  much  of  English  and 
kingly  pride  left  as  to  be  unwilling  to  be  publicly 
defended  by  the  soldiers  of  a  foreign  king,  whose 
subsidies  he  had  secretly  accepted   without  blush- 
ing.     His    seeming    temerity    was    the    offspring 
of  secret  fear,   and    the  feeling  of   his    own   im- 
potence made  him  turn  away  from   the  aspect  or 
the  thought  of  danger.     His  presentiments  did  not 
deceive  him.     More   than   six  weeks  elapsed   be- 
tween William's  landing  on  the  coast  of  England 
and  his  triumphal  entry  into  London.    He  advanced 
slowly  through  the   country,  awaiting  those    who 
would  resist,  or  those  who  might  join  him :  but  no 
resistance  was  offered ;  not  an  effort  was  made,  not 
a  drop   of  blood   was  shed,   in   defence  of  James. 
No  less  abject  in  the  presence  of  danger  than  he 
had  been  obstinate   in   refusing   to   foresee  it,   he 
tried  to  regain  by  weakness  what  he  had  lost  by 
temerity ;  he  retracted  all  he  had  done,  granted  all 
he  had  refused ;  he  restored  to  the  cities  their  char- 
ters, to  the  universities  their  privileges,  and  to  the 
bishops   his   favour.      He    dismissed    Father   Petre 

1  2 


-"^t^^S^WHt- 


P~ 


116 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


117 


from  his  council,  and  attempted  to  negotiate  with 
William.     His  meanness  was  as  unavailing  as  his 
temerity  had  been  impotent.    Shut  up  in  his  palace, 
he  dailv  learned  some  fresh  defection  of  his  gene- 
rals  or   counsellors.     His   daughter,   the    Princess 
Anne,  escaped  to  the  head-quarters  of  the  Prince  of 
Orange.     Whitehall   had   become  a  solitude,   and 
was  likely  soon  to  become  a  prison.     James  fled  in 
his   turn,   but    was   recognized   and   brought  back 
to  London  by  the  mob.     After  a  few  more  days 
passed  in  useless  perplexities,  he  escaped  again,  and 
for  ever.     On  the  18th  December,  1688,  he  had 
hardly  quitted  London  three  hours,  when  six  regi- 
ments of  cavalry,  English  and  Dutch,  entered  the 
capital,   with  colours  flying,  in  the  name   of  the 
Prince  of  Orange.     William  himself,  shunning  as 
much  by  taste  as  by  prudence  all  appearance  of 
triumph,  arrived  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day  at 
St.  James's  Palace ;  and  five  weeks  afterwards,  on 
the  22nd  of  January,  1689,  a  parliament,  extraordi- 
narily convoked  under  the  name  of  a  Convention, 
met  at  Westminster  to  sanction  and  settle  the  new 
order  of  things. 

In  this  assembly,  the  differences  which  had  been 
suppressed  during  the  common  danger^  broke  forth 
anew.  The  monarchical  scruples  of  the  Tories,  and 
the  innovating  notions  of  the  Whigs,  once  more  mani- 
fested themselves  in  all  their  force.  It  was  said  by 
the  more  timid  of  the  former,  that  the  wisest  course 


would   be  to  recall  King  James,  after  compelling 
him  to  grant  fresh  guarantees.     The  more  vehe- 
ment of  the  Whigs  spoke  of  founding  a  republic 
governed   by   a   council    of    state,    of   which   the 
Prince  of  Orange  should  be  President.     Between 
these  extremes  floated  the  moderate  opinions,  which 
also  were   divided   and   unsettled.      Many   of  the 
Whigs,  who,  though  they  had  no  intention  of  over- 
throwing the  monarchy,  were  still  deeply  imbued 
with  the  maxims  of  the  Long  Parliament,  wished 
to  depose    King    James,    and    to    defer  offering 
the  crown   to   William  till  republican  institutions 
should  have   been   organized    under    monarchical 
forms.     The  Tories,  who  were  warmly  attached  to 
the    Church   of    England,  demanded    that    James 
should  be  declared  incapable  of  reigning,  but  that 
the  foundations  of  the  monarchy  should  be  left  un- 
touched, and  the  government  placed  in  the  hands 
of  a  regency.     Others,  more  bold,  agreed  with  the 
Whigs  that  James,  by  his  conduct  and  his  flight, 
had  abdicated ;   but,  under  the  iniluence  of  scruples 
suggested   by   their   monarchical    principles,    they 
maintained  that   the  throne,  which  could    not  be 
vacant  for  a  single  moment,  descended,  by  this  mere 
act,    to   his    eldest  daughter,    the   Princess  Mary, 
and  that  nothing  remained  to  be  done  but  to  pro- 
claim her  Queen.     These  various  schemes,  as  soon 
as   they   were   promulgated,   were  explained,   dis- 
cussed, and  criticised   with  ardour  by  the  people 


118 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


as  well  as  in  the  two  Houses ;  the  public  mind 
became  heated,  and  parties  arrayed  themselves 
against  each  other;  the  ambitious  unfurled  the 
banner  under  which  they  hoped  to  rise  to  fortune 
and  distinction  ;  divisions  broke  out  between 
the  Lords  and  the  Commons;  and  the  Revolu- 
tion, though  hardly  accomplished,  was  already  in 

jeopardy. 

But  the  same  rare  political  good  sense  which  had 
united  the  leaders  of  parties  in  a  common  resistance, 
o'uided  them  through  the  difficulties  incident  to  a 
new  government.  They  dismissed  all  absolute 
theories  and  all  questions  of  no  practical  utility  ; 
they  reduced  the  acts  and  the  terms  by  which 
the  new  power  was  to  be  settled,  to  what  was 
strictly  necessary  to  give  it  a  solid  foundation ; 
and  they  were  only  anxious  to  bring  affairs  as 
speedily  as  possible  to  a  conclusion  which  might 
satisfy  the  higher  and  middling  classes  of  the 
country.  William,  at  first  by  his  reserve  and 
afterwards  by  his  firmness,  efficiently  seconded  the 
wisdom  of  the  party  leaders.  He  left  a  perfect 
latitude  to  every  system  and  every  project ;  betraying 
neither  his  wishes  nor  aversions,  and  keeping  himself 
aloof  from  all  debates.  But  when  he  felt  the  crisis 
approaching,  he  assembled  the  most  considerable 
men  of  the  two  Houses,  and  declared  to  them  in 
simple  and  brief  language,  which  admitted  of  no 
reply,  that  though  ho  was  full  of  respect  for  the 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


119 


rights  and  liberties  of  the  Parliament,  he,  too,  had 
liberties  and  rights,  and  would  never  accept  a 
mutilated  power  nor  a  throne  on  which  his  wife 
would  be  placed  above  him.  This  step  was  de- 
cisive :  the  two  Houses  came  to  an  agreement ;  a 
declaration  was  adopted,  proclaiming  the  vacancy 
of  the  throne,  the  fundamental  rights  of  the  English 
people,  and  the  elevation  of  William  and  Mary, 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Orange,  to  the  throne  of 
England.  On  the  13th  of  February,  1689,  the 
official  proclamation  of  the  Act  of  Parliament  was 
hailed  with  acclamations  in  all  the  principal  parts 
of  London. 

Nor  was  this  rare  combination  of  prudence, 
tmion,  and  power,  more  than  the  exigencies  of  the 
case  demanded  ;  for  such  is  the  inherent  vice  of  all 
revolutions,  that  even  the  most  lawful,  the  most 
necessary,  and  the  most  generally  approved,  causes 
a  profound  disturbance  in  the  community  which  it 
saves  from  worse  evils,  and  yields  results  which  are 
long  insecure  and  precarious. 

Hardly  more  than  two  or  three  years  had  passed 
when  William,  the  deliverer  of  England,  was  already 
unpopular.  His  simple  but  haughty  deportment, 
his  cold  taciturnity,  his  distaste  for  the  man- 
ners of  the  English  aristocracy  (which  he  took 
no  pains  to  conceal),  the  exclusive  intimacy  and 
lavish  favours  which  he  bestowed  on  a  few  old 
friends  who  had  accompanied  him  from  Holland, 


120 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


121 


all  conspired  to  make  him  a  stranger,  and  not  an 
agreeable  one,  in  the  midst  of  his  new  people.  In 
all  that  regarded  civil  and  religious  liberty  he  was 
far  more  enlightened  than  the  English,  and  was 
not  at  all  inclined  to  be  made  the  instrument  of 
episcopal  intolerance  or  of  rival  aristocratic 
parties.  He  had  little  respect  for  the  exigencies 
of  constitutional  government,  and,  indeed,  did  not 
understand  the  working  of  parliamentary  parties, 
which  at  that  time  were  confused  and  ill-organized ; 
he  was  shocked  at  their  selfishness  and  jealous  of 
their  power,  and  sometimes  defended  his  own  with 
more  vigour  than  discernment.  The  general  policy  of 
Europe  was  the  great,  and  almost  sole  object  of  his 
thoughts  and  government  He  had  aspired  to  the 
throne  of  England  mainly  that  he  might  have  all 
her  strength  at  his  disposal  in  his  struggle  against 
the  domination  of  Louis  XIV. ;  and  the  protestant 
passions  of  the  English  people  powerfully  seconded 
his  designs.  But  William  involved  England  in  the 
affairs  and  wars  of  the  continent  more  than  was 
agreeable  to  the  habits,  tastes,  or  interests  of  her 
people.  She  was  weary  of  being  engaged  in  efforts 
and  dangers  for  distant  objects  by  the  prince 
whom  she  had  invited  to  free  her  from  intestine 
dangers ;  and  he,  in  his  turn,  was  indignant  at 
finding  in  the  people  and  the  parties  whom  he 
had  delivered  on  their  own  soil,  so  little  ardour  and 
devotedncss    for  the    great   cause   to   which  their 


safety  and  their  freedom  were,  in  his  eyes,  so  mani- 
festly attached.  From  these  causes  arose  those 
misunderstandings,  heart-burnings  and  conflicts  be- 
tween the  King  and  the  country  which  disturbed 
and  shook  the  new  government.  William  was  con- 
scious of  his  strength,  and  used  it  haughtily;  he 
even  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  he  would  abdicate 
and  return  to  Holland,  if  he  were  not  better  under- 
stood and  more  vigorously  supported.  When  the 
danger  became  urgent,  the  Parliament,  the  political 
parties  throughout  the  country,  the  church,  and  the 
people  felt  how  necessary  William  was  to  them, 
and  made  the  liveliest  demonstrations  of  attach- 
ment to  him.  But  their  mutual  disgusts  soon  re- 
curred ;  the  parties  returned  to  their  rivalries ;  the 
people  to  their  prejudices  and  their  ignorance;  the 
king  to  his  European  policy,  his  war  expenditure, 
and  his  captious  tenacity  of  power.  The  hopes  of 
the  Jacobites  revived  :  though  beaten  in  Ireland  and 
Scotland,  and  discovered  and  condemned  in  Eng- 
land, they  laid  fresh  plots  and  renewed  their  at- 
tempts to  excite  a  civil  war.  Even  in  William's 
privy  council,  James  had  correspondents  who  thus 
endeavoured  to  secure  themselves  against  possible 
contingencies.  Notwithstanding  the  easy  success  of 
the  revolution,  the  firm  character  of  the  king,  and  the 
sincere  consent  of  the  country,  the  government  esta- 
blished in  1688  was,  during  the  whole  course  of  this 
reign,  continually  assailed  and  continually  tottering. 


m 


122 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


123 


Similar   evils  subsisted  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Anne.     The  Whigs  and  Tories,    more  and   more 
widely  severed,   carried   on    a   furious  contest  for 
power.     In  the  European  struggle  for  the  Spanish 
succession,  the  two  parties  were  at  first  united  in 
pursuing  King  William's  policy  of  intervention  and 
continental  war :  but  the  Whigs,  led  partly  by  a  spirit 
of  routine  and  partly  by  the  intoxication  of  success, 
wished  to  carry  this  policy  far  beyond  the  limits  of 
moderation  orexpediency ;  whilst  the  Tories  espoused 
the   cause   of  peace,    which  was  ardently   desired 
by  the  people  and  favoured  by  the  Queen.     By  the 
treaty  of  Utrecht  they  put  an  end  to  the  uneasy  and 
precarious  situation  of  Europe.    But  the  Tories  being 
nearly  connected  with  the  Jacobites,  and  the  Queen, 
in  spite  of  her  fidelity  to  protestantism,  beginning 
to  feel  a  revival  of  attachment  to  her  family,  domes- 
tic intrigues  were  mingled  with  foreign  complica- 
tions, and  the  banished  Stuarts  had  some  reason  to 
imagine  that  they  had  yet  a  chance  of  recovering  the 
throne.   The  settlement  of  1 688  appeared  to  be  once 
more  called  in  question ;  but  the  death  of  Queen 
Anne  and  the  peaceful  accession  of  the  House  of 
Hanover  established  it  on  a  solid  basis.     Under  the 
reigns  of  George  I.  and  George  II.  the  public  mind 
took  another  direction;    foreign  politics   ceased  to 
occupy    it;    the    internal    administration'   of    the 
country,    the   maintenance    of  peace,    questions  of 
finance,  colonies,  and  commerce,  and  the  develop- 


; 


ment  and  the  contests  of  parliamentary  government, 
became  the  predominant  and  absorbing  interests 
of  the  government  and  the  country.  The  revolu- 
tionary and  dynastic  questions  were  not,  however, 
wholly  extinct :  the  English  nation  had  no  affection 
for  German  princes,  who  did  not  speak  their  lan- 
guage and  did  not  like  their  habits ;  who  eagerly 
seized  on  any  pretext  to  quit  the  country  and  to 
visit  their  small  hereditary  state;  and  who  con- 
tinually involved  them  in  continental  squabbles 
to  which  the  English  attached  no  importance  and 
no  interest.  The  domestic  quarrels  and  the 
coarse  licentiousness  of  the  royal  family  offended 
the  country.  The  vacillating  rule,  the  selfish 
rivalries,  the  exaggerations  and  the  intrigues  of 
the  parliamentary  parties  shocked  its  integrity  and 
its  good  sense.  In  Scotland,  Ireland,  and  even  in 
England,  Jacobite  insurrections  were  pertinaciously 
renewed ;  but  though  they  always  found  enthusiastic 
adhei-ents,  they  were  always  repressed,  and  ceased  to 
excite  in  the  country  any  vehement  fear  or  antipathy. 
These  continual  attacks  on  the  established  order  of 
things  naturally  produced  a  general  indifference  and 
inertness,  a  disaffection  to  authority,  and  a  dispo- 
sition to  criticise  its  conduct ;  the  public  seemed  to 
fall  away  from  a  power  for  which  it  no  longer  cared. 
Fifty-seven  years  after  the  burst  of  national  enthu- 
siasm which  had  placed  William  III.  on  the  throne, 
the  grandson  of  James  II.,  at  the  head  of  a  body  of 


/ 


124 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


125 


Scotch  Highlanders,  penetrated  unresisted  into  the 
very  heart  of  England ;  and  people  began  to  ask 
whether  he  would  not  enter  London  in  a  few  days, 
as  easily  as  William  had  done  when  he  drove  out 
this  same  Pretender's  grandfather. 

But  the   fate   of  England   and    its  government 
were  not  left  to  be  determined  by  a  fit  of  popular 
ill  humour,  the  defeat  of  a  few  regiments  of  soldiers, 
or  the   daring  enterprise   of  a  few   factious  men. 
The  same  social  force  which,  in  1688,  had  accom- 
plished the  Revolution,  defended  and  saved,  in  1745, 
the  government  which  it  had  founded.     As  soon 
as  the  danger  became  evident,  the  enemies  of  that 
government  were  encountered  by  the  strong  organi- 
zation of  aristocratic  parties,  and  by  the  good  sense  of 
a  people  politically  disciplined  and   deeply  imbued 
with  the  Christian  faith.     The  Whig  leaders  and 
many  of  the  Tories  considered  their  honour  and 
their  political  fortune  bound  up  with  this  cause. 
The  parties  were   faithful  to  their  leaders.     The 
middle    classes    and    the    public    at    large    forgot 
their  discontents  and  disgusts,  and  the  small  hold 
of  the  government  on   their   personal  sympathy, 
and    thought   only  of  the   welfare   of  the   coun- 
try  and   their   own    true    interests.      The  church 
and  the  dissenters  were   animated  by  a  common 
loyalty.     Opposed  by  this  intelligent  union  of  the 
aristocracy  with  the  people,  and  of  the  political  with 
the   religious  spirit,  the  triumph  of  the  Jacobites 


I 


was  as  short-lived  as  it  had  been  sudden.  The 
greatest  peril  which  the  newly-constituted  mo- 
narchy of  England  ever  incurred  was  also  the 
last.  From  that  time  some  secret  plot,  some  at- 
tempt no  sooner  conceived  than  frustrated,  has 
occasionally  shown  that  it  still  had  enemies.  It 
was  not  till  after  seventy  years  of  laborious  and 
painful  trials  that  the  government  established  in 
1688  overcame  the  vices  inherent  in  every  revo- 
lution and  acquired  undisputed  sway  in  England. 
In  1760,  when  George  III.  ascended  the  throne,  it 
was  firmly  consolidated.  By  what  means  and  at 
what  cost  this  great  work  had  been  completed, 
appears  from  the  preceding  relation. 


A  people  who  can  understand  and  act  upon  the 
counsels  which  God  has  given  it  in  the  past  events 
of  its  history,  is  safe  in  the  most  dangerous  crises  of 
its  fate.  England  had  learned  from  her  former 
trials,  that  a  revolution  is  an  immense  and  incalcu- 
lable disorder,  which  entails  on  society  great  evils, 
great  perils,  and  great  crimes ;  a  disorder  which 
a  rational  people  may  be  compelled  to  undergo, 
but  which  they  will  dread  and  repel  until  it  is 
forced  upon  them  by  an  imperious  necessity.  In 
her  new  trials,  England  did  not  forget  this  lesson. 
She  endured  much,  she  struggled  long,  to  avoid 


\ 


126 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


127 


another  revolution ;  nor  did  she  resign  herself  to  it 
till  she  saw  no  other  way  of  saving  her  rights,  her 
honour,  and  her  faith.  It  is  the  glory  of  the  Revo- 
lution of  1688  and  the  main  cause  of  its  success, 
that  it  was  an  act  of  mere  defence  and  of  neces- 
sary defence. 

Whilst  this  revolution  was  defensive  in  principle, 
it  aimed  at  precise  and  limited  objects.     In  great 
political  and  social  convulsions,  a  fever  of  boundless 
and  impious   ambition   sometimes  seizes  upon  so- 
ciety ;    men  think  themselves  entitled  to  lay  hands 
upon  everything,  and  to  remodel  the  world  at  their 
will.     These  vague  and  presumptuous  schemes  of 
human  creatures  treating  the  great  and  complex 
system  in  which  their  place  is  marked  out  as  if  it 
were  a  chaos,  and  striving  to  exalt  themselves  into 
creators,  are  as  impotent  as  they  are  insane ;  the 
utmost  that  they  can  do  is,  to  throw  all  that   they 
touch   into   the  confusion   of  their  own   delirious 
dreams.     England  did  not  fall  into  this  wild  error. 
Instead  of  aspiring  to  alter  the  foundations  of  society 
and  the  destinies  of  mankind,  she  asserted  and  main- 
tained her  religion  and  her  positive  laws  and  rights  ; 
and  did  not  carry  her  claims  or  even  her  desires 
beyond  the  limits  which  they  prescribed.  With  a  sin- 
gular mixture  of  magnanimity  and  discretion,  she 
accomplished  a  revolution  which  gave  to  the  country 
a  new  head  and  new  guarantees,  but  which  stopped 
short  with  the  attainment  of  those  objects. 


This  great  change  was  not  brought  about  by 
popular  risings ;  but  by  political  parties  organized 
long  before  the  revolution,  with  a  view  to  the 
settlement  of  a  regular  government,  and  not  in  a 
revolutionary  spirit.  Neither  the  Tory  party,  nor 
that  of  the  Whigs  (spite  of  the  revolutionary  ele- 
ments which  mingled  in  it),  had  been  formed  for 
the  purpose  of  overthrowing  established  institutions. 
They  were  parties  occupied  with  constitutional 
politics,  not  with  conspiracy  and  revolt.  Although 
they  were  led  by  imperious  circumstances  to  change 
the  government  of  their  country,  the  design  was 
foreign  to  their  character  and  principles ;  and  they 
returned  with  little  effort  to  those  habits  of  order 
and  obedience  which  they  had  abandoned  for  a 
moment,  not  from  taste  or  levity,  but  from  necessity. 

Nor  was  the  merit  or  the  burthen  of  the  revolu- 
tion limited  to  either  of  the  great  parties  which  had 
so  long  been  opposed  in  opinion.  They  brought  it 
about  in  concert  and  by  mutual  concessions.  It  was 
imposed  on  both  by  a  common  necessity,  and  was 
not,  to  either,  a  victory  or  a  defeat.  Though 
watching  its  approach  with  widely  different  senti- 
ments, both  saw  it  to  be  inevitable,  and  shared  in 
its  accomplishment. 

It  has  often  been  said  in  France,  and  even  in 
England,  that  the  Revolution  of  1688  was  exclu- 
sively aristocratic ;  that  it  was  planned  and  achieved 
by  the  higher  classes  for   their  own  advantage,  and 


! 


128 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


129 


was  not  accomplished  by  the  impulse  or  for  the 
good  of  the  people. 

This  is  a  remarkable  example,  among  many 
others,  of  the  confusion  of  ideas  and  the  ignorance 
of  facts  which  so  often  characterize  the  j  udgments 
passed  on  great  events. 

The  two  political  changes  effected  by  the  Revo- 
lution of  1688  are  the  most  popular  to  be  found 
in  history ;  it  proclaimed  and  guaranteed,  on  the 
one  hand,  the  essential  rights  common  to  all 
citizens,  and  on  the  other,  the  active  and  effectual 
participation  of  the  country  in  its  own  government. 
A  people  so  ignorant  of  its  highest  interests,  as  not 
to  know  that  this  is  all  which  it  needs,  or  ought  to 
demand,  will  never  be  able  to  found  a  government 
or  to  maintain  its  liberties. 

Considered  from  a  moral  point  of  view,  the 
Revolution  of  1688  had  a  still  more  popular 
character ;  since  it  was  made  in  the  name  and  by 
the  force  of  the  religious  convictions  of  the  nation, 
and  was  designed  principally  to  give  them  security 
and  ascendancy.  In  no  country,  and  at  no  time, 
were  the  form  and  destiny  of  the  government  more 
powerfully  influenced  by  the  prevalent  faith  of  the 
governed. 

The  Revolution  of  1688  was  popular  in  its  prin- 
ciples and  results,  and  was  aristocratic  only  in  the 
mode  of  its  execution  ;  the  men  of  weight  and  mark 
in   the   country  by  whom  it  was  conceived,  pre- 


r 


{ 


\ 


V 


pared,  and  carried  through,  being  the  faithful  repre- 
sentatives of  the  general  interests  and  sentiments. 
It  is  the  rare  felicity  of  England,  that  powerful  and 
intimate  ties  were  early  formed,  and  have  been 
perpetuated,  among  the  different  classes  of  society. 
The  aristocracy  and  the  people  living  amicably, 
and  deriving  prosperity  from  their  union,  have 
sustained  and  controlled  each  other.  The  natural 
leaders  of  the  country  have  not  held  themselves 
aloof  from  the  people,  and  the  people  have  never 
wanted  leaders.  It  was  more  especially  in  1688 
that  England  experienced  tlie  benefit  of  this  happy 
peculiarity  in  her  social  order.  To  save  her  faith, 
her  laws  and  her  liberties,  she  was  reduced  to  the 
fearful  necessity  of  a  revolution  ;  but  she  accom- 
plished it  by  the  hands  of  men  disciplined  in 
habits  of  order  and  experienced  in  government, 
and  not  by  those  of  revolutionists.  The  very 
men  who  were  the  authors  of  the  change,  contained 
it  within  just  limits,  and  established  and  consoli- 
dated the  institutions  to  which  it  gave  birth.  The 
cause  of  the  Englisli  people  triumphed  by  the 
hands  of  the  English  aristocracy  :  this  indeed  was 
the  great  characteristic  of  the  Revolution,  and  the 
pledge  of  its  enduring  success. 


130 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


George  III.  had  been  seated  on  the  throne  six- 
teen years,  when,  at  fourteen  hundred  leagues  from 
his  capital,  more  than  two  millions  of  his  subjects 
broke  the  ties  which  bound  them  to  his  throne,  de- 
clared their  independence,  and  undertook  the  foun- 
dation of  a  Kepublic.  England  was  compelled,  after 
a  contest  of  seven  years,  to  recognise  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  United  States  of  America,  and  to 
treat  with  them  upon  equal  terms.  Sixty-seven 
years  have  since  elapsed ;  and,  without  any  violent 
effort  or  extraordinary  event,  these  United  States, 
by  the  mere  development  of  their  institutions  and 
of  the  prosperity  which  is  the  natural  attendant  on 
peace,  have  taken  an  honourable  place  among  great 
nations.  Never  was  an  ascent  to  greatness  at  once 
so  rapid,  so  little  costly  at  its  origin,  or  so  little 
troubled  in  its  progress. 

It  is  not  merely  to  the  absence  of  any  powerful 
rival,  or  to  the  boundless  space  open  to  their  popu- 
lation, that  the  United  States  of  America  have  owed 
this  singular  good  fortune.  Their  rapid  and  tran- 
quil rise  is  not  the  mere  result  of  such  happy 
accidents  as  these,  but  is  in  a  great  degree  a  con- 
sequence of  moral  causes. 

They  rose  to  the  position  of  an  independent 
state  under  the  banner  of  law  and  justice.  Their 
revolution,  like  that  of  England,  was  strictly  de- 
fensive. The  guarantees  which  they  claimed  and 
the  principles  which  they  asserted  were  inscribed 


r 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


131 


i 


in  their  charters.  They  were  the  same  which  the 
English  parliament,  with  far  greater  violence  and 
disorder  than  were  now  occasioned  by  the  resist- 
ance of  the  colonies,  had  triumphantly  claimed  and 
asserted  in  the  mother-country. 

The  great  and  perilous  enterprise  in  which  they 
engaged  was  not  strictly  a  revolution.     Before  they 
could  conquer  their  independence,  they  had  to  go 
through  a  war  with  a  formidable  enemy,  and  to  con- 
struct a  central  government  of  their  own,  in  the 
place  of  the  distant  power  whose  yoke  they  were 
endeavouring  to  throw  off:  but  in  respect  of  their 
local  political  institutions  and  their  private  law,  they 
had  no  revolution  to  make.     Each  of  the  colonies 
was  already  in  the  enjoyment  of  free  institutions  as 
toits  internal   affairs;  and  when  it  became  an  in- 
dependent  state,  little    change   was    necessary  or 
desirable    in   the   principles   and   structure   of  its 
existing  government.     Attachment  to  ancient  laws 
and  manners,    and   affectionate   reverence   for  the 
past,  were  the  general  sentiments  of  the  people. 
The  colonial  administration  of  a  distant  monarchy, 
was  easily  transformed  into  a  republican  admin- 
istration under  a  federation  of  states. 

Of  all  forms  or  modes  of  government,  the  repub- 
lican is  unquestionably  that  to  which  the  general 
and  spontaneous  assent  of  the  country  is  the  most 
indispensable.  An  absolute  monarchy  founded  by 
violence,  is  conceivable ;  and  indeed  such  have  ex- 

K  2 


'  / 


132 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


133 


isted.  But  a  popular  government  forced  upon  a 
people  in  despite  of  its  sentiments  and  wishes,  is 
an  absurditv  at  which  common  sense  and  justice 
revolt.  In  their  transition  to  the  republican  form 
of  government  the  Anglo-American  colonies  had 
no  such  difficulty  to  surmount;  it  was  the  full 
and  free  choice  of  the  people  ;  and  in  adopting  it, 
they  did  but  accomplish  the  national  wish,  and 
develope,  instead  of  overturning,  their  existing  in- 
stitutions. 

Nor  was  the  perturbation  in  the  social  order 
greater  than  that  in  the  political.  There  was  no 
conflict  between  different  classes,  nor  any  violent 
transfer  of  influence  from  one  order  of  men  to 
another.  Though  the  crown  of  England  had  still 
partisans  in  the  colonies,  their  attachment  to  it 
had  no  connexion  with  their  position  in  the  social 
scale.  The  wealthy  and  important  families  were  in 
general  the  most  firmly  resolved  on  the  conquest 
of  their  independence  and  the  foundation  of  a  new 
system ;  and  it  was  under  their  direction  that  the 
people  acted,  and  that  those  objects  were  accom- 
plished. 

The  opinions  and  feelings  of  men  in  regard  to 
religion  and  morals  underwent  as  slight  a  revolu- 
tion as  their  social  condition.  The  philosophical 
ideas  and  the  moral  and  religious  scepticism  pre- 
valent in  the  eighteenth  century,  had  obtained  some 
circulation    in    the    United  States ;    but   even   the 


'I 


ininds  which  they  had  infected  were  not  thoroughlv 
imbued  by  them  ;  their  fundamental  principles 
and  ultimate  consequences  were  not  understood  or 
accepted :  the  moral  gravity  and  the  practical  good 
sense  of  the  old  Puritans  survived  in  most  of  the 
American  admirers  of  the  new  French  philosophy. 
The  mass  of  the  population  remained  as  warmly 
attached  to  its  religious  creed  as  to  its  political 
liberties.  Whilst  rebelling  against  the  King  and 
the  Parliament  of  England,  they  were  submissive 
to  the  will  of  God  and  the  precepts  of  the  Gospel ; 
and  whilst  struggling  for  emancipation,  they  were 
governed  by  the  faith  which  inspired  their  fore- 
fathers, when  they  sought  the  New  World  and 
founded  the  communities  which  were  now  rising 
ifito  independent  states. 

The  ideas  and  passions  of  the  modern  partisans 
of  democracy,  which  now  convulse  and  disorganize 
society,  have  an  extensive  and  powerful  sway  in 
the  United  States,  and  there,  as  elsewhere,  are 
pregnant  with  contagious  errors  and  destructive 
l^ces.  Hitherto  they  have  been  controlled  and 
purified  by  Christianity,  and  by  the  sound  political 
traditions,  and  strong  habits  of  spontaneous  obe- 
dience to  law,  which,  in  the  midst  of  nearly  unli- 
mited freedom,  govern  the  population.  In  spite  of 
the  anarchical  principles  which  are  boldly  pro- 
claimed on  this  vast  theatre,  principles  of  order  and 
conservation  maintain  their   ground,  and  exercise 


i34 


DISCOURSE  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF 


a  powerful  influence  over  society  and  individuals ; 
their  presence  and  their  power  are  felt,  even  by 
the  party  which  emphatically  styles  itself  demo- 
cratic ;  insensibly  moderating  its  actions,  and  often 
saving  it  from  its  own  intemperance.  To  these 
tutelary  principles  which  presided  over  its  origin, 
the  American  revolution  owed  its  success.  May 
Heaven  grant  that  in  the  midst  of  the  formidable 
conflict  which  they  have  now  to  sustain,  they  may 
continue  to  guide  this  powerful  people,  and  to 
warn  them  in  time  of  the  precipices  which  He  so 
near  their  path ! 

Three  illustrious  men,  Cromwell,  William  III., 
and  Washington,  are  the  prominent  and  character- 
istic figures  in  the  history  of  the  critical  events 
which  determined  the  fate  of  two  mighty  nations. 
For  extent  and  force  of  natural  talents,  Cromwell 
perhaps  is  the  most  remarkable  of  the  three.  His 
mind  was  wonderfully  inventive,  supple,  prompt, 
firm,  and  perspicacious,  and  he  possessed  a  vigour 
of  character  which  no  obstacle  could  daunt,  and  no 
conflict  weary.  He  pursued  his  designs  with  an 
ardour  as  exhaustless  as  his  patience,  through  the 
slowest  and  most  tortuous,  or  the  most  abrupt  and 
daring  ways.  He  excelled  equally  in  winning  and 
in  ruling  men  by  personal  and  familiar  inter- 
course; he  displayed  equal  ability  in  leading 
an  army  or  a  party.  He  had  the  instinct  of 
popularity   and    the  gift  of  authority,  and   he  let 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


135 


loose  factions  with  as  much  audacity  as  he  subdued 
them.  But,  born  in  the  midst  of  a  revolution, 
and  raised  to  sovereign  power  by  a  succession  of 
violent  convulsions,  his  genius,  from  first  to  last, 
was  essentially  revolutionary ;  and  even  when 
taught  by  experience  the  necessity  of  order  and 
government,  he  was  incapable  of  either  respecting 
or  practising  the  immutable  moral  laws  which  are 
the  only  basis  of  government.  Owing  to  the  faults 
of  his  nature,  or  the  instability  of  his  position,  he 
wanted  regularity  and  calmness  in  the  exercise  of 
power ;  had  instant  recourse  to  extreme  measures, 
like  a  man  pursued  by  the  dread  of  mortal  dangers, 
and,  by  the  violence  of  his  remedies,  perpetuated  or 
even  aggravated  the  evils  which  he  sought  to  cure. 
The  establishment  of  a  government  is  a  work  which 
requires  a  more  regular  course,  and  one  more  con- 
formable to  the  eternal  laws  of  moral  order.  Crom- 
well was  able  to  subjugate  the  revolution  which  he 
had  so  largely  contributed  to  make,  but  not  to 
build  up  a  government  in  the  place  of  that  which 
he  had  subverted. 

Though  less  powerful  than  Cromwell  by  nature, 
William  ill.  and  Washington  succeeded  in  the 
undertaking  in  which  he  had  failed  ;  they  fixed 
the  destiny  nnd  consolidated  the  institutions  of 
their  respective  countries.  Even  in  the  midst  of 
revolution  they  never  adopted  a  revolutionary 
policy.       Power    gained    by    anarchical     violence 


136 


DISCOURSE  OiN  THE  HISTORY  OF 


THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 


137 


generally  entails  on  its  possessor  the  necessity  of 
using  despotic  violence  in  its  defence.  But  these 
two  great  men  were  naturally  placed,  or  placed 
themselves,  in  the  regular  ways  and  under  the 
permanent  conditions  of  government. 

William  was  an  ambitious  prince.  It  is  puerile 
to  believe  that,  up  to  the  moment  of  the  appeal 
sent  to  him  from  London  in  1688,  he  had  been 
insensible  to  the  desire  of  mounting  the  throne  of 
England,  or  ignorant  of  the  schemes  which  had 
long  been  laid  for  raising  him  to  it.  William 
followed  the  progress  of  these  schemes  step  by 
step ;  though  he  took  no  part  in  the  means,  he 
did  not  reject  the  end  ;  and,  without  directly 
encouraging,  he  protected  its  authors.  His  am- 
bition was  ennobled  by  the  greatness  and  justice 
of  the  cause  to  which  it  was  attached  ;  the 
cause  of  religious  liberty  and  of  the  balance  of  power 
in  Europe.  Never  did  man  make  a  vast  political 
design  more  exclusively  the  thought  and  purpose 
of  his  life  than  William  did.  The  work  which  he 
accomplished  on  the  field  or  in  the  cabinet  was  his 
passion ;  his  own  aggrandizement  was  but  the 
means  to  that  end.  Whatever  were  his  views  on 
the  crown  of  England,  he  never  attempted  to 
realize  them  by  violence  and  disorder.  To  his  well- 
regulated  and  lofty  mind  the  inherent  vice  and  de- 
grading consequences  of  such  means  were  obvious 
and  revolting.      But  when  the  career  was  opened  to 


him  by  England  herself,  he  did  not  suffer  himself 
to  be  deterred  from  entering  on  it  by  the  scruples 
of  a  private  man  ;  he  wished  his  cause  to  prevail, 
and  he  wished  to  reap  the  honour  of  the  triumpli. 
Rare  and  glorious  mixture  of  worldly  ability  and 
christian  faith,  of  personal  ambition  and  devotion 
to  public  ends ! 

Washington  had  no  ambition ;  his  country 
wanted  him  to  serve  her,  and  he  accepted  great- 
ness from  a  sense  of  duty  rather  than  from  taste  ; 
sometimes  even  with  a  painful  effort.  The  trials 
of  his  public  life  were  bitter  to  a  man  who  preferred 
the  independence  of  a  private  condition  and  tran- 
quillity of  mind  to  the  exercise  of  power.  But  he 
undertook,  without  hesitation,  the  task  which  his 
country  imposed  on  him,  and,  in  fulfilling  it,  he 
made  no  concessions  that  could  lighten  its  burthen 
either  to  the  country  or  to  himself.  He  was  born 
to  govern,  though  he  had  no  delight  in  governing ; 
and,  with  a  firmness  as  unshaken  as  it  was  simple, 
and  a  sacrifice  of  popularity  the  more  meritorious 
as  it  was  not  compensated  by  the  pleasures  of  domi- 
nation, he  told  the  American  people  what  he  be- 
lieved to  be  true,  and  persisted  in  doing  what  he 
thought  to  be  wise.  Though  the  servant  of  an 
infant  republic,  in  which  the  democratic  spirit 
prevailed,  he  won  the  confidence  of  the  people  by 
maintaining  their  interests  in  opposition  to  their 
inclinations.     The  policy  which  he  pursued  while 


'\ 


138        DISCOURSE  ON  THE  ENGLISH  REVOLUTION. 

laying  the  foundations  of  a  new  government,  was 
so  moderate  yet  so  rigorous,  so  prudent  yet  so  inde- 
pendent, that  it  seemed  to  belong  to  the  head  of  an 
aristocratic  Senate  ruling  over  an  ancient  State. 
The  success  with  which  it  was  crowned  does  equal 
honour  to  Washington  and  to  his  country.      . 


Whether  we  consider  the  general  destiny  of  na- 
tions, or  the  lives  of  the  great  men  whom  they 
have  produced ;  whether  we  are  treating  of  a  mo- 
narchy or  a  republic,  an  aristocratic  or  a  democratic 
society,  the  same  light  breaks  upon  us  from  the 
facts  presented  by  history :  we  see  that  the  ultimate 
success  or  failure  of  governments  is  determined,  in 
the  last  result,  by  the  same  laws ;  and  that  the 
policy  which  jDreserves  a  state  from  violent  revolu- 
tions, is  also  the  only  policy  which  can  bring  a 
revolution  to  a  successful  close. 


I 


I 


THE    END. 


TRIMED  By  W.  CLOWES  AND  SONS,  STAMFORD  STREET. 


>* 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 


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